

t 



COPYRIGHT DEPOSIT 


■li 






I 





1 




t '' 


J 





V. , ’ 

' 

V 1 


v 

'' ^ 


I 



1 








g 


f 



I • . » 


t 


■r 


t 


* 


I 


t 







t 











I :-i. 




k 

1 





( 



« 


» 



•« 


‘i 


V I -J 

* t 


< 


4 


I 


I 


k 



) 





s 


I 










• « 



«i 


t • 



kt 


IT' 





, ' 1 




» \ 

« 





J 



. <, 


i 


J 


t 




I 



I 


I 




> 


I 


I 






« * 

4 






PRICE iO CENTS. 






l5*«yrfX>W*». 


v;%;vt*t:^t:.*:.:;;v:5 






;5S?^*SWWS8g3 




»*^C**^?t*S 


i * rs f.*A?t»> * •’ V * *1* VA* 




‘Vi?.V^ 

N5MS3 


►Vi? f i •*» 




■£/cke-^ 


aiii'iniiiiln 


DSVJ^.TED TO THE BEST CURRENT & STANDARD LITERATURE. 


|i I I 1 1 1 M 1 1 1 1 [JJ n I n n I I M III I I 1 1 ’ I II I p 1 1 1 HI I II M^i 1 1 1 1 1 III n 1 1 1 1 1 II in mi 1 1 


Entered at the Post Office N. T as Second Vkiss Matter - 


The Spanish Nun. 


BY 


THOMAS HE QUINCY. 




NEW 


) * ' '^' ' 

► M'»MI iST/ 

■ .. 


JOHN 'W. LOVELC^'OMHANY, 

14 & 10 Vesey Street. 

Allen Bros, Sole"^ Advensng Agents. 23 Lno^ Scua'e. New Ycf;< = 
iii T iiu n n 1 1 i 1 1 (T r ri ' n ' i r r n 'TTtid nn n t"i mmniiirt I'iiiuiiiininniT/rn 











AI) VERTISEMENTS. 



BEST EDITIONS 


OF 


STANDARD FIOTION.ii 


ELIOT’S {GEORGE) COMPLETE WORKS. 

Lovell's Popular Edition. Printed from large clear type, new elec- 
trotype plates, unifoi'm in style with Lovell’s editions of Dickej 
Thackeray and Scott. The only complete edition published in 
country, 

I. Middlemarch. Scenes from Clerical Life, and 

II. Daniel Deronda. Silas Marner. 

TTT - Romola, VIII. Theophrastus Such — The Span- 

IV. Adam Bede. ish Gypsy, Jubal, and other 

V. Felix Holt. Poems. 

VI, The Mill on the Floss. 

8 vol. 12mo. Cloth, black and gold $isj 00 ^ 

Half calf 3100 " 

DICKENS’ WORKS. Charles Dickens’ Complete 

Works. Lovell's Popular Illustrated Edition. Printed from ei^irely r 
new electrotype plates, large, clear type, with over 150 illustrations by ^,,.#31 
Phi?. Barnard, Green, etc., etc. 

15 vols. 12mo. Cloth, gilt ^*60 

“ “ Cloth, gilt top 2^.00 ^ ; 

Half Russia SilSO-'' - 

Half calf ,, 4,|(X)*- . 

Any volume sold separately, in cloth . . . .^ . . ^ 50 

SCOTT (SIR WALTER). TMM'^WA VERLEY' E 

NOVELS. Lovells Popular Illustrated Editions. New electrotype - 
palates, large clear type, uniform with Lovell’s editions of Dickens and ^ 

Thackeray, making these the best y.nd cheapest editions published. - 

Library Edition. Printed on fine paper, fully illustrated, and beau- ; 
tifully bound, making this the best edition published. 24 vols. Cloth, 
gilt 3|00;| 

The Same. Popular Edition. Two vols. in one. 

12 vols. Cloth, gilt IS 00. Vi 

Half calf : 3‘5;,00 A 

THACKERAY, William Makepeace Thackeray’s : 

Complete Works. Lovells Popular Illustrated Edition. This is an ^ ^ 
entirely new edition of Mr. Thackeray’s writings. It is beautifully 

E rinted from new electrotype plates, large clear type, on fine paper, - - 
andsomely illustrated with over 200 full-page illustrations by the 9 * 

author, Richard Doyle, and F. Walker, and bound in cloth, gilt. It is 
the only large- type edition printed in this country, and is the best, 
cheapest, aivd handsomest edition published. ' . 

11 vols. 12mo. About 800 pages each. Cloth ....." lO 56 -■ 

“ Half calf , Sa^OO ':' 

Any volume will be sold separately, bound in cloth, price 50 ■! 

JOHN W. LOVELL COMPANY, ? 

Publishers, 14 & 16 Vssey St.. New Tore. . ; 

■ 


ool'Tf iGHT 1882, BY The Johji W. Lovell Compahy. 



r pi^^OTED Tb~TH'E~'BEST~^U~^ENT' & STANDARD LITERATURE. 71 


iBolume 1, 20. August 10, 1882. Issued Weekly, Annual Subscription, 52 Numbers. $8.0t. 

cT* 

THE SPAJilSH NUN. 


V‘"liy is it that adventures are so generally re- 
= ihive to people of meditative minds % It is for 
‘ me reason that any other want of law, that 
; \ 'er anarchy, is repulsive. Floating passive- 
, ^ . :ction to action as helplessly as a withered 
leaf surrendered to the breath of winds, the human 
spirit (out of which comes all grandeur of human 
motions) is exhibited, in mere adventures^ as either 
entirely laid asleep, or as acting only by lower 
organs that regulate the means^ whilst the ends 
nre derived from alien sources and are imperiously 
predetermined . It is a case of exception, however, 
iv^hen even amongst such adventures the agent 
reacts upon his own difficulties and necessities by 
a temper of extraordinary courage and a mind of 



THE SPANISH NUN. 


prematuie decision. Fiirtlier strength arises to 
such an exception, if the very moulding accidents 
of the life, if the very external coercions, are them- 
selves unusually romantic. They may thus gain 
a separate interest of their own. And, lastly, the 
whole is locked into validity of interest, even for 
the psychological philosopher, by complete au- 
thentication of its t ruth . In the case now brought 
before him, the reader must not doubt ; for no me« 
moir exists, or personal biography, that is so trebly 
authenticated by proofs and attestations direct and 
collateral. From the archives of the Royal Mar- 
ine at Seville, from the autobiography of the 
heroine, from contemporary chronicles, and from 
several official sources scattered in and out of 
Spain, some of them ecclesiastical, the amplest 
proofs have been drawn, and may yet be greatly 
extended, of the extraordinary events here re- 
corded. M. de Ferrer, a Spaniard of much re- 
search, and originally incredulous as to the facts, 
published about seventeen years ago a selection , 
from the leading documents, accompanied by his 
'palinode as to their accuracy. His materials 
have been since used for the basis of more than 
one narrative, not inaccurate, in French, German, 
and Spanish journals of high authority. It is- 
seldom the case that French writers err by pro* 


THE SPANISH NUN. 




lixity. They have done so in this case. The 
present narrative, which contains no sentence de- 
rived from any foreign one, has the great advan- 
tage of close compression ; my own pages, after 
equating the size, being as one to three of the 
shortest continental form. In the mode of narra- 
tion, I am vain enough to flatter myself that the 
reader will find little reason to hesitate between us. 
Mine, at least, weary nobody ; which is more than 
can be always said for the continental versions. 

On a night in the year 1592, (but which night 
is a secret liable to three hundred and sixty -five 
answers,) a Spanish son of somebody * in the 
fortified town of St. Sebastian, received the dis- 
agreeable intelligence from a nurse that his wife 
had just presented him with a daughter. No 
present that the poor misjudging lady could pos- 
sibly have made him was so entirely useless for 
any purpose of his. He had three daughters al- 
ready, which hapiDened to be more by 2x1 than 
Ms reckoning assumed as a reasonable allowance 
of daughters. A supernumerary son might have 
been stowed away ; but daughters in excess were 
the very nuisance of Spain. He did, therefore, 
what in such cases every proud and lazy Spanish 
gentleman was apt to do— he wrapped the new 

* That is, “ hidalgo." 


4 


THE SPANISH NUN. 


little daughter, odious to his paternal eyes, in a 
pocket handkerchief ; and then, wrapping up his 
own throat with a good deal more care, off he 
bolted to the neighboring convent of St. Sebas- 
tian, not merely of that city, but also (amongst 
several convents) the one dedicated to that saint. 
It is well that in this quarrelsome world we quar- 
rel furiously about tastes, since agreeing too 
closely about the objects to be liked and appro- 
priated would breed much more lighting than is 
bred by disagreeing. That little human tad-pole 
which the old toad of a father would not suffer to 
stay ten minutes in his house, proved as welcome 
at the nunner}^ of St. Sebastian as she was odious 
elsewhere. The superior of the convent was 
aunt, by the mother’s side, to the newborn stran- 
ger. She therefoie kissed and blessed the little 
lady. The poor nuns, who were never to have 
any babies of their own, and were languishing 
for some amusement, perfectly doted on this 
prospect of a wee pet. The superior thanked 
the hidalgo for his very splendid present ; the 
nuns thanked him each and all ; until the old 
crocodile actually began to cry and whimper sen- 
timentally at what he now perceived to be an ex- 
cess of munificence in himself. Munificence, in- 


THH} SPANISH NU-li. 


deed, he remarked, was his foible, next after 
parental tenderness. 

What a luxury it is sometimes to a cynic that 
there go two words to a bargain ! In the convent 
of St. Sebastian all was gratitude, — gratitude (as 
aforesaid) to the hidalgo from all the convent for 
his present, — until at last the hidalgo began to 
express gratitude to them for their gratitude to 
him. Then came a rolling fire of thanks to St. 
Sebastian ; from the superior, for sending a future 
saint ; from the nuns, for sending such a love of 
a plaything ; and finally from papa, for sending 
such substantial board and well-bolted lodgings, 
“from which,’’ said the malicious old fellow, 
“my pussy will never find her way out to a 
thorny and dangerous world.” Won’t she? I 
suspect, son of somebody, that the next time you 
see ‘/pussy,” which may happen to be also the 
last, will not be in a convent of any kind. At 
present, while this general rendering of thanks 
was going on, one person only took no part in 
them. That person was “ pussy,” whose little 
figure lay quietly stretched out in the arms of a 
smiling young nun, with eyes nearly shut, yet 
peering a little at the candles. Pussy said noth- 
ing ; its of no great use to say much when all the 
world is against you ; but if St. Sebastian had en- 


6 


THE SPANISH NUN 


abled her to speak out the whole truth, jiussy 
WOULD have said, “So, Mr. Hidalgo, you have 
been engaging lodgings for me — lodgings for life. 
Wait a little. We’ll try that question when my 
claws are grown a little longer.” 

Disappointment, therefore, was gathering ahead ; 
but for the present there was nothing of the kind. 
That noble old crocodile, papa, was not in the 
least disappointed as regarded 7iis expectation 
of having no anxiety to waste, and no money to 
j)ay on account of his youngest daughter. He 
insisted on his right to forget her ; and in a week 
had forgotten her, never to think of her again, 
but once. 

The lady superior, as regarded her demands, 
was equally content, and through a course of 
several years ; for, as often as she asked j)ussy if 
she would be a saint, pussy replied that she would, 
if saints were allowed plenty of sweatmehts. But 
least of all were the nuns disappointed. Every 
thing that they had fancied possible in a human 
plaything fell short of what pussy realized in 
racketing, racing, and eternal iDlots against the 
peace of the elder nuns. Ho fox ever kept a hen 
roost in such alarm as pussy kept the dormitory 
of the senior sisters ; whilst the younger ladies 
were run oif their legs by the eternal wiles, and 


THE SPANISH NUK. 


7 


had their chapel gravity discomposed, even in 
chapel, by the eternal antics, of this privileged 
little kitten. 

, The kitten had long ago received a baptismal 
name, which was Kitty : this is Catharine, or Kate, 
or Hispanice Catalina. It was a good name, as 
it recalled her original name of pnssy. And by 
the way, she had also an ancient and honorable 
surname, viz., De Erauso^ which is to this day a 
name rooted in Biscay. Her father, the hidalgo^ 
was a military officer in the Spanish service, and 
had little care whether his kitten should turn out 
a wolf or a lamb, having made over the fee simple 
of his own interest in the little Kate to St. Sebas- 
tian, ^‘to have and to hold” so long as Kate 
should keep her hold of this present life. Kate 
had no apparent intention to let slip that hold ; 
for she was blooming as a rosebush in June, tall 
and strong as a young cedar. Yet, notwithstand- 
ing this robust health and the strength of the 
convent walls, the time was drawing near when 
St. Sebastian’s lease in Kate, must, in legal 
phrase, ‘‘determine;” and any chateaux en 
Espagne that the saint might have built on the 
cloisteral fidelity of his pet Catalina must sud- 
denly give way in one hour, like many other 
vanities in our own days of Spanish bonds and 


8 


TEE ISFANmi NUN. 


promises. After reaching her tenth year, Catalina 
became thoughtful, and not very docile. At 
times she was even headstrong nnd turbulent, so 
that the gentle sisterhood of St. Sebastian, who 
had no other pet or plaything in the world, be- 
gan to weep in secret, fearing that they might 
have been rearing by mistake some future tigress ; 
for, as to infancy, that^ you know, is playful and 
innocent even in the cubs of a tigress. But there 
the ladies were going too far. Catalina was im- 
petuous and aspiring, but not cruel. She was 
gentle, if people would let her be so ; but woe to 
those that took liberties with her ! A female 
servant of the convent, in some authority, one 
day, in passing up the aisle to matins, wilfully 
gave Kate a push ; and in return, Kate, who never 
left her debts in arrear, gave the servant for a 
keepsake a look which that servant carried with 
her in fearful remembrance to her grave. It 
seemed as if Kate had tropic blood in her veins, 
that continually called her away to the tropics. , 
It was all the fault of that ‘‘blue, rejoicing sky,” 
of those purple Biscayan mountains, of that tu- 
multuous ocean whicli she beheld daily from the 
nunnery gardens. Or, if only half of it was their 
fault, the other half lay in those golden tales, 
streaming upwards, even into the sanctuaries of 


TllhJ ISI*AN18H liUJV. 


9 


convents, like morning mists touclied by earliest 
snnliglit, of kingdoms overshadowing a new world 
which had been founded by her kinsmen with the 
simple aid of a horse and a lance. The reader is 
to remember that this is no romance, or at least 
no fiction, that he is reading; and it is proper to 
remind the reader of real romances in Ariosto or 
our own Spenser, that such martial ladies as the 
Marfisa or Br adamant of the first, and Britomart 
of the other, were really not the improbabilities 
that modern society imagines. Many a stout 
man, as you will soon see, found that Kate, with 
a sabre in hand and well mounted was but too 
serious a fact. 

The day is come, the evening is come, when our 
poor Kate, that had for fifteen years been so ten- 
derly rocked in the arms of St. Sebastian and his 
daughters, and that henceforth shall hardly find 
a breathing space between eternal storms, must 
see her peaceful cell, must see the holy chapel, 
for the last time. It was at vespers, it was during 
the chanting of the vesper service, that she final- 
ly read the secret signal for her departure, which 
long she had been looking for. It happened that 
her aunt, the lady principal, had forgotten her 
breviary. As this was in a private scrutoire, she 
did not choose to send a servant for it, but gave 


10 


THE SPANISH Nl-N. 


the key to her niece. The niece, on opening the 
scrutoire, with that rapidity of eye glance for the 
one thing needed in any great emergency which 
ever attended her through life, that now was the 
rnoment for an attempt which, if neglected, might 
never return. There lay the total keys, in one mas- 
sive trousseau^ of that fortress impregnable even 
to armies from without. St. Sebastian ! do you see 
what your pet is going to do ? And do it she 
will, as sure as your name is St. Sebastian. Kate 
went back to her aunt with the breviary and the 
key, but taking good care to leave that awful 
door, on whose hinge revolved, her whole life, un- 
locked. Delivering the two articles to the super- 
ior, she complained of a headaches, [ah, Kate ! 
what did you know of headaches, except now and 
then afterwards from a stray bullet or so ?] upon 
which her aunt, kissing her forehead, dismissed 
her to bed. Kow, then, through three fourths of 
an hour Kate will have free elbow room for un- 
anchoring her boat, for unshipping her oars, and 
for pulling ahead right out of St. Sebastian’ s cove 
into the main ocean of life. 

Catalina, the reader is to understand, does not 
belong to the class of persons in whom chiefly I 
pretend to an interest ; but every where one loves 
energy and indomitable courage. I for ray part, 


THE SPANISH NUN. 


11 


admire not, by preference, any thing that points 
to this world. It is the child of revery and pro- 
fonnder sensibility, who turns away from the 
world as hateful and insufficient, that engages my 
interest ; whereas Catalina was the very model of 
the class fitted for facing this world, and who ex- 
press their love to it by fighting with it and kick- 
ing it from year to year. But, always, what is 
best in its kind one admires, even though the 
kind be disagreeable. Kate’s advantages for her 
role in this life lay in four things — viz. , in a well- 
built person and a jiarticularly strong wrist. 2d. 
In a heart that nothing could appall. 3d. In a 
sagacious head, never drawn aside from the hoc 
age [from the instant question of life] by any 
weakness of imagination. 4th. In a tolerably 
thick shin — not literally ; for she was fair and 
blooming, and decidedly handsome, having such 
a skin as became a young woman of family in 
northernmost Spain. But her sensibilities were 
obtuse as regarded some modes of delicacy, some 
modes of equity, some modes of the world’s 
opinion, and all modes whatever of personal 
hardship. Lay a stress on that word some ; for, 
as to delicacy, she never lost sight of the kind 
which peculiarly concerns her sex. Long after- 
wards she told the pope himself, when con- 


12 


THE SPANlSn NUN. 


fessing without disguise her sad and infinite 
wanderings to the paternal old man, (and I 
feel convinced of her veracity,) that in this re- 
spect, even then, at middle age, she was as pure 
as is a child ; and as to equity, it was only that 
she substituted the equity of camps for the polish- 
ed (but often more iniquitous) equity of courts 
and towns. As to the third item, — the world’s 
opinion, — I don’t know that you need lay a stress 
on some ; for, generally speaking, dll that the 
world did, said, or thought, was alike contempt- 
ible in her eyes ; in which, perhaps, she was not 
so Tiery far wrong, I must add, though at the 
cost of interrupting the story by two or three 
more sentences, that Catalina had also a fifth ad- 
vantage, which sounds humbly, but is really of 
use in a world where even to fold and seal a letter 
adroitly is not the least of accomplishments. She 
was a handy girl. She could turn her hand to 
any thing ; of which I will give you two memor- 
able instances. Was there ever a girl in this 
world but herself that cheated and snapped her 
fingers at that awful Inquisition which brooded 
over the convents of Spain, that did this without 
collusion from outside, trusting to nobody but to 
herself, nnd what ? To one needle, two hanks of 
thread, and a very inferior pair of scissors. , For 


THE SPANISH NUH 


13 


tliat tlie scissors were bad, tliougli Kate does not 
say so in her memoirs, I knew by an a 'priori ar- 
gument — viz,, because aZZ scissors were bad in the 
year 1607, Kow, say all decent logicians, from a 
universal to a particular valet consequential all 
scissors were bad ; ergo some scissors were bad. 
The second instance of her handiness will surprise 
you even more. She once stood upon a scaffold, 
under sentence of death, (but, understand, on the 
evidence of false witnesses.) Jack Ketch was ab- 
solutely tying the knot under her ear ; and the 
shameful man of ropes fumbled so deplorably 
that Kate (who by much nautical experience had 
learned from another sort of ‘ ‘ Jack ” how a knot 
should be tied in this world) lost all patience 
with the contemptible artist, told him she was 
ashamed of him, took the rope out of his hand, 
and tied the knot irreproachably herself. The 
crowd saluted her with a festal roll, long and 
loud, of vivas ^ and this word viva of good augury. 
But stop ; let me not anticipate. 

From this sketch of Catalina’s character, the 
reader is prepared to understand the decision of 
her present j^J'oceeding, She had no time to lose ; 
the twilight favored her ; but she must get un- 
der liiding before pursuit commenced. Conse- 
quently she lost not one of her forty-five minutes 


14 


THE SPANISH NUN. 


in picking and choosing. No sMlly sltally in 
Kate. She saw with the eyeball of an eagle wha.t 
was indispensable : some little money, perhnps, 
to pay the first coll bar of life. So, out of four 
shillings in aunty’s purse, she took one. You 
can’t say that was exorbitant. Which of us 
w^ouldn’t subscribe a shilling for poor Katy to 
put into the first trouser j^ockets that ever she 
will wear 1 I remember even yet, as a personal 
experience, that when first arrayed ; at four years 
old, in nankeen trousers, — though still so far re- 
taining hermaphrodite relations of dress as to 
wear a petticoat above my trousers, — all my fe- 
male friends (because they pitied me as one that 
had suffered from years of ague) filled my pock- 
ets with half crowns, of which I can render no 
account at this day. But what were my i:>oor 
pretensions by the side of Kate’ s ? 

Kate was a fine blooming girl of fifteen, with 
no touch of ague ; and, before the next sun rises, 
Kate shall draw on her first trousers, and made 
by her own hand ; and, that she may do so, of 
all the valuables in aunty’ s repositary, she takes 
nothing besides the shilling, quantum sufficit of 
thread, one stout needle, and (as I told you be- 
fore, if you would please to remember things) one 
bad pair df scissors. Now she was ready — ready 


THE SPANISH NUN. 


15 


to cast off St Sebastian^s towing-rope — ready 
to cut and run for port any where. The finishing 
touch of her preparations was to pick out the 
proper keys. Even there she showed the same 
discretion. She did no gratuitous mischief. She 
did not take the wine cellar key, which would 
have irritated the good father confessor ; she 
took those keys only that belonged to her., if ever 
keys did; for they were the keys that locked her 
out from her natural birthright of liberty. ‘ ‘ Show 
me,” says the Eomish casuist, ‘‘her right in law 
to let herself out of that nunnery.” “ Show us,” 
we reply, ^^your right to lock her in.” 

Right or wrong, however, in strict casuistry, 
Kate had resolved to let herself out, and did so ; 
and, for fear any man should creep in whilst ves- 
pers lasted and steal the kitchen grate, she locked 
her old friends in. Then she sought a shelter. 
The air was not cold. She hurried into a chest- 
nut wood, and upon withered leaves slept till 
dawn. Spanish diet and youth leave the diges- 
tion undisordered and the slumbers light. When 
the lark rose, up rose Catalina. No time to lose ; 
for she was still in the dress of a nun, and liable 
to be arrested by any man in Spain. With her 
armed finger (ay ; by the way, I forgot the 
thimble ; but Kate did not) she set to work upon 


16 


THE SPANISH NUN 


her amply -embroidered petticoat. She turned it 
wrong side out ; and, with the magic that only fe- 
male hands possess, she had soon sketched and 
finished a dashing pair of W ellington trousers. 
All other changes were made according to the 
materials she possessed, and quite sufficiently to 
disguise the two main perils — her sex and her 
monastic dedication. What was she to do next 1 
Speaking of Wellington trousers would remind 
us^ but could hardly remind her^ of Vittoria, 
where she dimly had heard of some maternal re- 
lative. To Vittoria, therefore, she bent her 
course ; and, like the Duke of Wellington, but 
arriving more than two centuries earlier, (though 
Tie^ too, is an early riser,) she gained a great vic- 
tory at that place. She had made a two days’ 
march, baggage far in the rear, and no provisions 
but wild berries. She depended for anything 
better, as light-heartedly as the duke, upon at- 
tacking, sword in hand, storming, her dear 
friend’s intrenchments, and effecting a lodging in 
his breakfast room, should he happen to have 
one. This amiable relative, an elderly man, had 
but one foible, or perhaps one virtue, in this 
world ; but that he had in perfection ; it was 
pedantry. On that hint Catalina spoke. She 
knew by heart, from the services of tlie convent, 


TUB NUN, 


17 


a few Latin phrases. Latin ! — O, but that was 
charming ; and in one so young ! The grave don 
owned the soft impeachment, relented at once, 
And clasped the hopeful young gentleman in the 
Wellington trousers to his uncular and rather 
angular breast. 

In this house the yarn of life was of a mingled 
quality. The table was good ; but that was ex- 
actly what Kate cared little about. The amuse- 
ment was of the worst kind. It consisted chiefly 
in conjugating Latin verbs, especially such as 
were obstinately irregular. To show him a 
withered, frost-bitten verb, that wanted its pre- 
terite, wanted its supines, wanted, in fact, every 
thing in this world, fruits or blossoms, that make 
a verb desirable, was to earn the don’s gratitude 
for life. All day long he was marching and 
countermarching his favorite brigades of verbs — 
verbs frequentative, verbs inceptive, verbs desider- 
ative — horse, foot, and artillery ; changing front, 
advancing from tie rear, throwing out skirmish- 
ing parties ; until Kate, not given to faint, must 
have thought of such a resource as once in her 
life she had thought so seasonably of a vesper 
headache. This was really worse than St. Sebas- 
tian’s. It reminds one of a French gayety in 
Thiebault, or some such author, who describes a 


18 THE SPANISH NUN 

rustic party, under equal despair, as employing 
themselves in conjugating the verb s’ennuyer: Je 
m^ennuie tu fennuies^ il s' ennuit ; nous nous 
ennuyons^ &c. ; thence to the imperfect — Je m’en- 
nuyois^tu V ennuyois^ &c. ; thence to the impera- 
tive — QuHl s' ennuye &c. ; and so on through the 
whole melancholy conjugation. Now, you know, 
when the time comes that nous nous ennuyons^ 
the best course is to part. Kate saw that ; and 
she walked off from the don’s, (of whose amorous 
passion for defective verbs one would have wished 
to know the catastrophe,) and took from his 
mantel piece rather more silver than she had 
levied on her aunt. But the don, also, was , a 
relative ; and really he owed her a small check on 
his banker for turning out on his field days. A 
man if he is a kinsman, has no right to bore one 
gratis. 

From Yittoria, Kate was guided by a carrier to 
Valladolid. Luckily, as it seemed at first, — but 
it made little difference in the end, — here, at Val- 
ladolid, were the king and his court ; consequent- 
ly there was plenty of regiments and plenty of 
regimental bands. Attracted by one of these, 
Catalina was quietly listening to the music, when 
some street ruffians, in derision of the gay colors 
and the form of her forest-made costume, (rascals! 


IIIE SPANISH NUN. 


19 


one would like to have seen what sort of trousers 
they would have made with no better scissors,) 
began to pelt her with stones. Ah, my friends of 
the genus you little know who it is that 

you are selecting for experiments. This is the 
one creature of fifteen in all Spain, be the other 
male or female, whom nature, and temper, and 
provocation have qualified for taking the conceit 
out of you. This she very soon did, laying open 
a head or two with a sharp stone, and letting out 
rather too little than too much of bad Yalladolid 
blood. (3ut mark the constant villainy of this 
world. Certain alguazils, — very like some other 
alguazils that I know nearer home, — having stood 
by quietly to see the friendless stranger insulted 
and assaulted, now felt it their duty to apprehend 
the poor nun for murderous violence ; and, had 
there been such a thing as a treadmill in Y alla- 
dolid, Kate was booked for a place on it without 
further inquiry. 

Luckily, injustice does not always prosper. A 
gallant young cavalier, who had witnessed from 
his windows the whole affair, had seen the pro- 
vocation, and admired Catalina’s behavior, — 
equally patient at first, and bold at last, — has- 
tened into the street, pursued the officers, forced 
them to release their prisoner npon stating the 


2U 


THE SPANISH NUN. 


circumstunces of the case, and instantly offered 
Catalina a situation among his retinue. He was 
a man of birth and fortune ; and the place offered, 
that of an honorary page, being not at all, de- 
grading, even to a daughter of somebody,” was 
cheerfully accepted. Here Catalina spent a 
happy month. She was now splendidly dressed, 
in dark-blue velvet, by a tailor that did not "work 
within the gloom of a chestnut forest. She and 
the young cavalier, Don Francisco de Cardenas, 
were mutually pleased and had mutual confi- 
dence. All went w^ell ; w^hen one evening, but 
luckily, not until the sun had been set so long as 
to make all things indistinct, who should march 
into the antechamber of the cavalier but that sub- 
lime of crocodiles, that we lost sight of fif- 

teen years ago, and shall never see again after this 
night ! lie had his crocodile tears all ready for 
use, in wwking order, like a good industrious 
fire engine. It was absolutely to Catalina her- 
self that he advanced ; whom, for many reasons, 
he could not be supposed to recognize • lapse of 
years, male attire, twilight, were all against him. 
Still she might have the family countenance , and 
Kate thought he looked with a suspicious scru- 
tiny into her face as he inquired for the young 
don. To avert her own face, to announce him to 


THE SPANISH NUN 


21 


Bon Francisco, to wish him on the shores of that 
ancient river for crocodiles, the ISile, furnished 
but one moment’s work to ' the active Catalina. 
She lingered, however, as her place entitled her 
to do, at the door of the audience chamber. She 
guessed already, but in a moment she heard from 
papa’s lii3S, what was the nature of his errand. 
His daughter Catharine, he informed the don, had 
eloped from the convent of St. Sebastian — a place 
rich in delight. Then he laid open the unpar- 
alleled ingratitude of such a step. O the unseen 
ti ensure that he had spent upon that girl ! O the 
untold sums of money that he had sunk in that 
unhappy speculation ; the nights of sleeplessness 
suffered during her infancy ! the fifteen years of 
solicitude thrown away in schemes for her im- 
provement. It would have moved the heart of a 
stone. The hidalgo wept copiously at his own 
pathos. And to such a height of grandeur had 
he carried his Spanish sense of the sublime, that 
he disdained to mention the pocket handkerchief 
which he had left at St. Sebastian’s fifteen years 
ago by way of envelope for ‘‘ pussy,” and Avhich, 
to the best of pussy’s knowledge, was the one 
sole memorandum of jmpa overheard of at St. Se- 
bastian’s. Pussy, however, saw no use in revis- 
ing and correcting the text of papa’s remembran- 


22 


THE SPANim Nl N. 


ces. She showed her usual jjriideiice and her 
incomparable decision. It did not appear, as yet, 
that she would be reclaimed or was at all suspect- 
ed for the fugitive Ify her father ; for it is an in- 
stance of that singular fatality which pursued 
Catalina through life, that, to her own astonish- 
ment, (as she now collected from her father’s con- 
ference,) nobody had traced her to Valladolid, 
nor had her father’s visit any connection with 
suspicions traveling in that direction. 

The case was quite different. Strangely 
enough, her street row had thrown her into the 
one sole household in all Spain that had an offi- 
cial connection with St. Sebastian’s. That con- 
vent had been founded by the young cavalier’ s 
family ; and, according to the usage of Spain, the 
young man (as present representative of his 
house) was the responsible protector of the estab- 
lishment. It was not to the don as harborer of 
his daughter, but to the don as ex officio visitor 
of the convent, that the hidalgo was appealing. 
Probably Kate might have staid safely some time 
longer. Yet, again, this would but have multi- 
plied the clews for tracing her ; and, finally, she 
would too probably have been discovered ; after 
which, with all his youthful generosity, the poor 
don could not have protected her. Too terrific 


TII^ SPANISiJ: ycr^v. 


23 


was tlie vengeance that awaited an abetter of any 
fugitive nun ; but above all, if such a crime were 
X^erpetrated by an official mandatory of the 
church. Yet, again, so far it was the more haz- 
ardous course to abscond, that it almost revealed 
her to the young don as the missing daughter. 
Still, if it really /lad that effect, nothing at pre- 
sent obliged him to pursue her, as might have 
been the case a few weeks later. Kate argued (I 
dare say) rightly, as she always did. Her pru- 
dence whispered eternally, that safety there was 
none for her until she had laid the Atlantic be- 
tween herself and St. Sebastian’s. Life was to be 
for Tier a Bay of Biscay ; and it -was odds but she 
had first embarked upon this billowy life from the 
literal Bay of Biscay. Chance ordered other- 
wise ; or, as a Frenchman says with eloquent in- 
genuity in connection with this story, “ Chance is 
but the pseudonyme of God for those particular 
cases which he does not subscribe openly with 
his own sign manual.” She crept up stairs to her 
bed room. Simple are the traveling preparations 
of those that, possessing nothing, have no imper- 
ials to pack. She had Juvenal’s qualification for 
carolling gayly through a forest full of robbers ; 
for she had nothing to lose but a change of linen, 
that rode easily enough under her left arm, leav- 


24 


THE SPANISH NUN 


ing the right free for answering any questions of 
impertinent customers. As she crept down stairs 
she heard the crocodile still weeping forth his sor- 
rows to the pensive ear of twilight and to the sym- 
pathetic Don Francisco. Now, it would not have 
been filial or ladylike for Kate to do what I am 
going to suggest ; but what a pity that some, gay 
brother page had not been there to turn aside in- 
to the room, armed with a roasted potato, and, 
taking a sportsman’s aim, to have lodged it in the 
crocodile’ s abominable mouth ! Y et what an an- 
achronism ! There were, no roasted potatoes in 
Spain at that date, and very few in England. But 
anger drives a man to say any thing. 

Catilina had seen her last of friends and enemies 
in Valladolid. Short was her time there ; but she 
had improved it so far as to make a few of both. 
There was an eye or two in V alladolid that would 
have glared with malice upon her had she been 
seen by all eyes in that city as she tripped through 
the streets in the dusk ; and eyes there were that 
would have softened into tears had they seen the 
desolate condition of the child, or in vision had 
seen the struggles that were before her. But 
what’s the use of wasting tears upon our Kate? 
Wait till to-morrow morning at sunrise, and see 
if she is particularly in need of pity. What now 


THE SPANISH NUN. 


25 


should a young lady do — I propose ic as a sub- 
ject for a prize essay — that finds herself in Yalla- 
dolid at nightfall, having no letters of introduc- 
tion, not aware of any reason great or small for 
preferring any street in general, except so far as 
she knows of some reason for avoiding one or two 
streets in ]iarticular 1 The problem I have stated, 
Kate investigated as she went along, and she sol- 
ved it with the accuracy which she ever applied 
to 'practical exigencies. Her conclusion was, that 
the best door to knock at in such a case was the 
door where there was no need to knock at all, as 
being unfastened and open to all comers ; for she 
argued that within such a door there would be 
nothing to steal ; so that, at least, you could not 
be mistaken in the dark for a thief. Then, as to 
stealing from Iter^ they might do that if they 
could. 

Upon these principles, which hostile critics will 
in vain endeavor to undermine, she laid her hand 
upon what seemed a rude stable door. Such it 
proved. There was an empty cart inside — cer- 
tainly there was ; but you couldn’t take that away 
in your x)ocket : and there were five loads of straw; 
but then of those a lady could take no more than 
her reticule would carry, which perhaps was al- 
lowed by the courtesy of Spain. So Kate was 


86 


THE SPANISH NUN 


light as to the difficulty of being challenged for 
a thief. Closing the door as gently as she had 
opened it, she dropped her jierson, dressed as she 
was, upon the nearest heap of straw. Some ten 
feet farther were lying two muleteers, honest and 
happy enough, as compared with the lords of the 
bed chamber then in Valladolid, but still gross 
men, carnally deaf from eating garlic and onions 
and other horrible substances. Accordingly they 
never heard her, nor were aware, until dawn, that 
such a blooming person existed. But she was 
aware of them and of their conversation. They 
were talking of an expedition for America, on the 
point of sailing, under Don Ferdinand de Cordova. 
It was to sail from some Andalusian port. That 
was the very thing for her. At daylight she 
woke and jumped up, needing no more toilet than 
the birds that were already singing in the gardens, 
or than the two muleteers, who, good, honest 
fellows, saluted the handsome boy kindly — think- 
ing no ill at his making free with their straw, 
though no leave had been asked. 

With these philo-garlic men Kate took her de- 
parture. The morning was divine ; and, leaving 
Valladolid with the transports that befitted such 
a golden dawn, feeling also already, in the very 
obscurity of her exit, the pledge of her escape, 


THE SPANISH NUN 


27 


she cared no longer for the crocodile, or for St. 
Sebastian, or (in the way of fear) for the protec- 
tor of St Sebastian ; though of Mm she thought 
with some tenderness, so deep is the remembrance 
of kindness mixed with justice. Andalusia she 
reached rather slowly, but many months before 
she was sixteen years old, and quite in time for 
the expedition. St. Lucar being the port of ren- 
dezvous for the Peruvian exjjedition, thither she 
went. All comers were welcome on board the 
fleet, much more a fine young fellow like Kate. 
She was at once engaged as a mate ; and,7ier ship, 
in particular, after doubling Cape Horn without 
loss, made the coast of Peru. Paita was the port 
of her destination. Very near to this port they 
were when a storm threw them upon a coral reef. 
There was little hope of the ship from the first ; for 
she was unmanageable, and was not expected to 
hold together for twenty-four hours. In this con- 
dition with death before their faces, mark what 
Kate did, and please to remember it for her benefit 
when she does any other little thing tliat angers 
you. The crew lowered the longboat. Vainly 
the captain protested against this disloyal deser- 
tion of a king’s ship, which might yet, perhaps, 
be run on shore, so as to save the stores. Ail the 
crew, to a man, deserted the captain. You may 


28 


THE iiEiiNISlI NUN. 


say that literally ; for tlie single exception was 
not a man, being our boldhearted Kate. She was 
the only sailor that refused to leave her captain 
or the King of Spain’s ship. The rest pulled 
away for the shore, and with fair hopes of reach- 
ing it. But one half hour told another tale. Just 
about that time came a broad sheet of lightning, 
which, through the darkness of evening, revealed 
the boat in the very act of mounting like a horse 
upon an inner reef, instantly tilling, and throwing 
out the crew, every man of whom disappeared 
amongst the breakers. The night which succeded 
was gloomy for both the representatives of his 
Catholic majesty. It cannot be denied by the 
greatest of philosophers that the muleteer’s stable 
at Valladolid was worth twenty such ships, 
though the stable was insured against fire, and 
the ship WAS -insured against the sea and the wind 
by some fellow that thought very little of his en- 
gagements. But what’s the use of sitting down 
to cry? That was never any trick of Catalina’s. 
By daybreak she was at work with an axe in her 
hand. I knew it before ever I came to this place in 
her memoirs. I felt, as sure as if I had read it, 
that when day broke we should find Kate hard at 
work. Thimble or axe, trousers or raft, all one 
to her. 


THE SPANISH NUN, 


29 


The captain, though true to his duty, seems to 
have desponded. He gave no help towards the 
raft. Signs were speaking, however, pretty loud- 
ly, that he must do something ; for notice to quit 
was now served pretty liberally. Kate’ s raft was 
ready ; and she encouraged the captain to think 
that it would give both of them something to hold 
on by in swimming, if not even carry double. At 
this moment, when all was waiting for a start, 
and the ship herself was waiting for a final lurch 
to say Good hy to the king of Spain, Kate went 
and did a thing which some misjudging people 
will object to. She knew of a box laden with 
gold coins, reputed to be the King of Spain’s, 
and meant for contingencies in the voyage out. 
This she smashed open with her axe, and took a 
sum equal to one hundred guineas, English, 
which, having well secured in a pillow case, she 
then lashed firmly to the raft. Now, this, you 
know, though not ^^Jiotsom,^^ because it would 
not float, was, certainly, by maritime law ‘"jet- 
som.^’’ It would be the idlest of scruples to fancy 
that the sea or a shark had a better right to it 
than a philosopher, or a splendid girl who 
showed herself capable of writing a very fair oc- 
tavo, to say nothing of her decapitating in battle 
several of the king’ s enemies and recovering the 


30 


THE SPANISH NUN 


king's banner. No sane moralist would kesitate 
to do the same thing under the same circumstan- 
ces on board an English vessel, though the first 
lord of the admiralty should be looking on. Tlie 
raft was now thrown into the sea. Kate Jumped 
after it, and then entreated the captain to follow 
her. He attempted it ; but, wanting her youth- 
ful agility, he struck his head against a spar and 
sank like lead, giving notice below that his ship 
was coming. 

'V 

Kate mounted the raft and was gradually 
washed ashore, but so exhausted as to have lost 
all recollection. She lay for hours until the 
warmth of the sun revived her. On sitting up, 
she saw a desolate shore stretching both ways — 
nothing to eat, nothing to drink ; but fortunately 
the raft and the money had been thrown near 
her, none of the lashings having given way ; only 
what is the use of a guinea amongst tangle and 
seagulls ? The money she distributed amongst her 
pockets, and soon found strength to rise and march 
forward. But which was forward ? and which 
backward ? She knew by the conversation of the 
sailors that Paita must be in the neighborhood ; 
and Paita, being a port, could not be in the in- 
side of Peru, but of course somewhere on the 
outside, and the outside of a maratime land must 


2 HE SPANISH NUN 


31 


be on the shore ; so that, if she kept the shore 
and went far enough, she could not fail of hitting 
her foot against Paita at last, in the very darkest 
night, provided only she could first find out 
which was up and which was down; else she 
might walk her shoes off and find herself six 
thousand miles in the wrong. Here was an awk- 
ward case, all for want of a guide-post. Still, 
when one thinks of Kate’s prosperous horoscope, 
that, after so long a voyage, she only out of the 
total crew was thrown on the American shore, 
with one hundred and five pounds in her purse of 
clear gain on the voyage, a conviction arises that 
she could not guess wrongly. She might have 
tossed up, having coin in her pocket, heads or 
tails f But this kind of sortilege was then com- 
ing to be thought irreligious in Christendom, as 
a Jewish and heathen mode of questioning the 
dark future. She simply guessed, .therefore ; 
and very soon a thing happened which, though 
adding nothing to strengthen her guess as a true 
one, did much to sweeten it if it should prove a 
false one. On turning a point of the shore, she 
came upon a barrel of biscuit washed ashore from 
the ship. Biscuit is about the best thing I know ; 
but it is the soonest spoiled ; and one would like 
to hear counsel on one puzz-ling point, why it is 


33 


THE SPANISH NUN 


that a touch of water utterly ruins it, taking its 
life, and leaving a caput mortuum corpse. Upon 
this caput Kate breakfasted, though her case was 
worse than mine ; for any water that ever plagued 
me was always fresh: now, hers was a present 
from the Pacific Ocean. She, that was always 
prudent, packed up some of the Catholic king’s 
biscuit as she had previously packed up far too 
little of his gold. I3ut in such cases a most deli- 
cate question occurs, pressing equally on medi- 
cine and algebra. It is this . If you pack up too 
much, then, by this extra burden of salt provi-^ 
sions, you may retard for days your arrival at 
fresh provisions : on the other hand, if you pack 
up too little, you may never arrive at all. Cata- 
lina hit juste milieu ; and about twilight on 
the second day she found herself entering Paita, 
without having had to swim any river in her 
walk. 

The first thing in such a case of distress which 
a young lady does, even if she happens to be a 
young gentleman is to beautify her dress. Kate 
always attended to that^ as we know, having over- 
looked her in the chestnut wood. The man she 
sent for was not properly a tailor, but one who 
employed tailors, he himself furnished the mate- 
rials. His name was Urquiza — a fact of very little 


TI^E SPANISH NUN, 


33 


importance to ns in 1847, if it had stood only at 
the head and foot of Kate’s little acconnt ; but, 
unhappily for Kate’ s dehut on this vast American 
stage, the case was otherwise. Mr. Urquiza had 
the misfortune (equally common in the old world 
and the new) of being a knave, and also a showy, 
specious knave. 

Kate, who had prospered under sea allowances 
of biscuit and hardship, was now expanding in 
proportions. With very little vanity or conscious- 
ness on that head, she now displayed a really fine 
jjerson ; and, when dressed anew in the way tl>at 
became a young officer in the Spanish service, she 
looked the representative picture of a Spanisli 
cahallador. It is strange that such an api)ear- 
ance and such a rank should have suggested to 
Urquiza the presumptuous idea of wishing that 
Kate might become his clerk. He did^ however, 
wish it ; for Kate wrote a beautiful hand ; and a 
stranger thing is, that Kate accepted his proposal. 
This might arise from the difficulty of moving in 
those days to any distance in Peru. The ship had 
been merely bringing stores to the station of Pai- 
ta ; and no coiq-s of the royal armies was readily 
to be reached, whilst something must be done at 
once for a livelihood. Urquiza had two mercan- 
tile establishments — one at Trujillo, to which he 
2 


84 


THE SPANISH NUN. 


repaired in person, on Kate’ s agreeing- to under- 
take the management of the other at Paita. Like 
the sensible girl that we have always found her, 
she demanded specific instructions for her guid- 
ance in duties "so new. Certainly she was in a 
fair way for seeing life. Telling her beads at St. 
Sebastian’s, mancEuvring irregular verbs at Yit- 
toria acting as gentleman usher atYalladolid, serv- 
ing his Spanish majesty round Cape Horn, fight- 
ing with storms and sharks off the coast of Peru, 
and now commencing as bookkeeper, or commis, 
to a draper atPaita, — does she not justify the char- 
acter that I myself gave her, just before dismissing 
her from St. Sebastian’s, of being a “ handy ” girl? 
Mr. Urquiza’s instructions were short, easy to be 
understood, but rather comic ; and yet, which is 
odd, they led to tragic results. There were two 
debtors of the shop {many^ it is to be hoped, but 
two meriting his affectionate notice) with respect 
to whom he left the most opposite directions. The 
one was a very handsome lady ; and the rule as 
to her was, that she was to have credit unlimited, 
strictly unlimited. That was plain. The other 
customer favored by Mr. Uriquiza’s valedic- 
tory thoughts was a young man, cousin to the 
handsome lady, and bearing the name of Peyes. 
This youth occupied in Mr. Urquiza’s estimate 


TUt: SPANISH NUN 


35 


the same hyperbolical rank as the handsome 
lady, but on the opposite side of the equation. 
The rule as to Mm was, that he was to have no 
credit, strictly none. In this case, also, Kate 
saw no difficulty ; and, when she came to know 
Mr. Reyes a little, she found the path of pleasure 
coinciding with the path of duty. Mr. Urquiza 
could not be more precise in laying down the rule 
than Kate was in enforcing it. But in the other 
case a scruple arose. Unlimited might be a 
word, not of Spanish law, but of Spanish rhetoric ; 
such as, Live a thousand years,'^' which even 
annuity offices hear, and perhaps utter, without a 
pang. Kate, therefore, wrote to Trujillo, expres- 
sing her honest fears, and desiring to have more 
definite instructions. These were positive. If the 
lady choose to send for the entire shop, her ac- 
count was to be debited instantly with that. She 
had, however, as yet, not sent for the shop ; but 
she began to manifest strong signs of sending for 
the shopma?^. 

Upon the blooming young Biscayan had her 
roving eye settled ; and she was in a course of 
making up her mind to take Kate for a sweet- 
heart. Poor Kate saw this v/ith a heavy heart ; 
and, at the same time that she had a prospect of 
a tender friend more than she wanted, she had 


Tin: isTANim nun. 


3 > 

become certain of an extraenemy that she wanted 
quite as little. What she liad done to offend Mr. 
Reyes Kate could not guess, excex)t as to tlie 
matter of the credit ; but then, in tliat, she only 
executed her instructions. Still Mr. Reyes was 
of opinion that there were two ways of executing 
orders ; but the main offence was unintentional 
on Kate’s part. Reyes, though as yet she did 
not know it, had himself been a candidate for the 
situation of clerk, and intended probably to keep 
the equation precisely as it was with respect to 
the allowance of credit, only to change places 
with the handsome lady, keeping her on the nega- 
tive side, himself on the affirmative — an arrange- 
ment that you know would have made no sort of 
pecuniary difference to Urquiza. 

Thus stood matters, when a party of strolling 
players strolled into Paita. Kate, asa Spaniard, 
being, one held of the Paita aristocracy, was ex- 
pected to attend. She did so; and there, also 
was the malignant Reyes. He came and seated 
himself purposely, so as to shut out Kate from 
all view of the stage. She, who had nothing of 
the bully in her nature, and was a gentle creatui-e 
when her wild Biscayan blood had not been kind- 
led by insult, courteously requested him to move 
a little ; upon which Reyes remaked that it was 


THE SPANISH JNUN. 


, S7 

not in liis power to oblige the clerk as to that, 
but that he could oblige him by cutting his throat. 
The tiger that slept in Catalina wakened at once. 
She seized him, and would have executed ven- 
geance on the spot, but that a party of young 
men interposed to part them. The next day, 
when Kate (always ready to forget and forgive) 
was thinking no more of the row, Ileyes passed. 
By spitting at the window, and other gestures in- 
sulting to Kate, again he roused her S[)anish 
blood. Out she rushed, sword in hand. A duel 
began in the street, and very soon Kate's sword 
had passed into the heart of Keyes. Now^ ihat 
the mischief was done, the ])olice w^ere, as usual, 
all alive for the pleasure of avenging it. Kate 
found herself suddenly in a strong i)rison, and 
with small ho]3es of leaving it except for execu- 
tion. The relations of the dead man weie potent 
in Paita, and clamorous for justice; so that the 
corregidor ^ in a case where he saw^ a veiw’ poor 
chance of being coriaipted \'-j biibes, felt it his 
duty to be sublimely incorruptible. The reader 
I'liows, however, that amongst the relatives of the 
deceased bully w^as that handsome lady, w^ho dif- 
fered as much f]’om her cousin in her sentiments 
as to Kate as she did in the extent of her credit 
with Mr. Urquiza. To her Kate wrote a note. 


THE SPANISH NUN. 


and using one of the Spanish king’s gold coins 
for bribing the jailer, got it safely delivered. 
That, perhaps, was unnecessary ; for the lady 
had been already on the alert, and had sum- 
moned TJrquiza from Trujillo. J3y some means, 
not very luminously stated, and by paying- 
proper fees in proper quarters, Kate was 
smuggled out of the prison at nightfall and 
smuggled into a pretty house in the suburbs. 
Had she known exactly the footing she stood on 
as to the law, she would have been decided. As 
it was, she was uneasy, and jealous of mischief 
abroad ; and, before supper, she understood it 
all. 

Urquiza briefly informed his clerk that it 
would be requisite for him to marry the handsome 
lady. But why? Because, said Urquiza, after 
talking for hours with the corregidor who was 
infamous for obstinancy, he had found it impos- 
sible to make him ‘‘hear reason” and release the 
prisoner until this compromise of marriage was 
suggested. But how could public justice be paci- 
fied for the clerk’s unfortunate homicide of Reyes 
by a female cousin of the deceased man engaging 
to love, honor, and obey the clerk for life ? Kate 
could not see her way through this logic. “ISTon- 
sense, my friend,” said Urquiza; “you don’t 


THE SPAmSH NUN, 


39 


comprehend. As it stands, the affair is a murder 
and hanging the penalty ; but, if you marry into 
the murdered man’s house, then it becomes a 
little family murder, all quiet and comfortable 
amongst ourselves. W hat has the corregidor to 
do with that, or the public either ? Now, let me 
introduce the bride.” Supper entered at that 
moment, and the bride immediately after. The 
thoughtfulness of Kate was narrowly observed, 
and even alluded to, but politely ascribed to the 
natural anxieties of a prisoner and the very im- 
perfect state of liberation even yet from prison 
surveillance. Kate had, indeed, never been in 
so trying a situation before. The anxieties of the 
farewell night at St. Sebastian were nothing to 
this ; because, even if she had failed tlien^ a 
failure might not have been always irreparable. 
It was but to watch and wait. But now, at this 
supper table, she was not more alive to the nature 
of the peril, than she was to the fact, that if, 
before the night closed, she did not by some 
means escape from it, she never would escape 
with life. The deception as to her sex, though 
resting on no motive that pointed to these popple 
or at all concerned them, would be resented as if 
it had. The lady would resent the case as a 
mockery ; and Urquiza would lose his opportunity 


40 


THE SPANISH NUN. 


of delivering himself from an imperious mispress- 
According to tlie usages of the times and coun- 
try, Kate knew that in twelve hours she would 
be assassinated. 

l^eople of intirmer resolution Avould have linger- 
ed at the suj^per table, for the sake of putting off 
the evil moment of final crisis. Kot so Kate. 
She had revolved the case on all its sides in a few 
minutes and had formed her resolution. This 
done, she was as leadyfor the trial at one mo- 
ment as another ; and, when the lady suggested 
that the hardships of a prison must have made 
re})Ose desirable, Kate assented, and instantly rose. 
A sort of procession formed, for the purt)ose of 
doing honor to the interesting guest and escorting 
him in pomp to his bedroom. Kate viewed it 
much in the same light as the pi'ocession to which 
for some days she had been expecting an invita- 
tion from the corregidor. Far ahead ran the 
servant 'woman as a sort of outrider. Then came 
Urqniza, like a pacha of two tails, who granted 
two sorts of credit, viz., unlimited and none at 
all, bearing two wax lights, one in each hand, and 
wanting only cymbals and kettledrums to exjjress 
emphatically the pathos of his Castilian strut. 
Next came the bride, a. little in advance of the 
clerk, but still turning obliquely towards him and 


Tir^ SPANISH NJJN. 


41 


smiling graciously into liis face. Lastly, bringing 
up the rear, came tlie prisoner, — onr Kate, — the 
nun, the page, the mate, the clerk, the homicidey 
the convict ; and, for this day only, by particular 
desire, the bridegroom elect. 

It was Kate^s fixed opinion, that, if for a mo- 
ment she entered any bed room having obviously 
no outlet, her fate would be that of an ox once 
driven within the shambles. Outside, the bullock 
might make some defence with his horns ; but 
once in, with no space for turning, he is muiiled 
and gagged. She carried her eye, therefore, like 
a hawk’s, steady, though restless, for vigilant ex- 
amination of every angle she turned. Before she 
entered any bed room, she was determined to re- 
connoitre it from the doorway, and in case of ne- 
cessity, show fight at once, before entering — as 
the best chance, after all, where all chances were 
bad. Every thing ends ; and af last the procession, 
reached the bed room door, the outrider having 
filed off to the rear. One glance suliiced to satis - 
fy Kate that windows there were none, and, there- 
fore, no outlet for escape. Treachery appeared 
even in that; and Kate, though unfortunately 
without arms, was now fixed for resistance. Mr. 
Urquiza entered first. ‘‘Sound the trumpets! 
Beat the drums ! ’’ There were, as we know al- 


42 


THE SPANISH NUN 


ready, no windows ; but a slight interruption to 
Mr. Urquiza’s |)ompous tread showed that there 
were steps downwards into the room. Those, 
thought Kate, will suit me even better. Sht) had 
watched the unlocking of the bed-room door — 
she had lost nothing — she had marked that the 
key was left in the lock. At this moment, the 
beautiful lady, as one acquainted wdth the de- 
tails of the house, turning with the air of a gra- 
cious monitress, held out her fair hand to guide 
Kate in careful descent of the steps. This had 
the air of taking out Kate to dance ; and Kate, at 
that same moment, answering to it by the gesture 
of a modern waltzer, threw her arm l^hind the 
lady’s waist, hurled her headlong down the steps, 
right against Mr. Urquiza, draper and haber- 
dasher ; and then, with the speed of lightning, 
throwing the door home within its architrave, 
doubly locked the creditor and debtor into the 
rat trap which they had prepared for herself. 

The affrighted outrider fled with horror . she 
already knew that the clerk had committed one 
homicide ; a second would cost him still less 
thought ; and thus it happened that egress was 
left easy. But, when out and free once more in 
the bright starry night, which way should Kate 
turn % The whole city would prove but a rat trap 


THE SPANISH NUN. 


43 


for her, as bad as Mr. Urquiza’s, if she was notoff 
before morning. At a glance, she comprehended 
that the sea was her only chance. To the port 
she fled. All was silent. Watchmen there were 
none. She jumped into a boat. To use the oars 
was dangerous, for she had no means of muffling 
them. But she contrived to hoist a sail, push off 
with a boat hook, and was soon stretching across 
the water for the mouth of the harbor before a 
breeze light but favorable. Having cleared the 
difficulties of exit, she lay down, and uninten- 
tionally fell asleep. When she awoke, the -sun 
had been up three or four hours ; all was right 
otherwise ; but, had she not served as a sailor, 
Kate would have trembled upon finding that, dur- 
ing her long sleep of perhaps seven or eight hours, 
she had lost sight of land, by what distance she 
could only guess, and in what direction was to 
some degree doubtful. 

All this, however, seemed a great advantage to 
the bold girl, throwing her thoughts back on the 
enemies she had left behind. The disadvantage 
was, having no breakfast, not even damaged bis- 
cuit ; and some anxiety naturally arose as to ul- 
terior prospects a^little beyond the horizon of 
breakfast. But who’s afraid ? As sailors whistle 
for a wind, Catalina really had but to whistle for 


44 


THE SPANISH NUN 


any thing with energy, and it was sure to come. 
Like Cmsar to the pilot of Lyrrhachium, she 
might have said for the comfort of lier poor tim- 
orous boat, (though destined soon to perish,) 
Catallnam mills, et fortunas ejus^ Mean- 
time, being very doubtful as to the best course 
for sailing, and content if her course did but lie 
olf shore, she ‘'carried on,” as sailors say, under 
easy sail, going in fact, just whither and just 
how the Pacific breezes suggested in the gentlest 
of whispers. All right hehind, was Kate’s opin- 
ion ; and, what was better, very soon she might 
say. All right ahead ; for, some hour or two be- 
fore sunset, when dinner was for once becoming, 
even to Kate, the most interesting of subjects for 
meditation, suddenly a large ship began to swell 
upon the brilliant atmosphere. In those latitudes, 
and in those years, any ship was pretty sure to be 
Spanish : sixty years later, the odds were in favor, 
of its being an English buccaneer, which would 
have given a new direction to Kate’s energy. Kate 
continued to make signals with a handkerchief 
whiter than the crocodile’s of Ann. Dom. 1592, 
else it would hardly have been noticed. Perhaps, 
after all, it would not, but that the ship’s course 
carried her very nearly across Kate’s. The strang- 
er lay- to for her. It was dark by the time Kate 


THE SPANISH NUN 


45 


Steered lierself nnder the ship’ s quarter ; and then 
was seen an instance of this girl’s eternal wake- 
fulness; something was painted on the stern of 
her boat, she could not ^^^what ; but she judged 
that it would express some connection with the 
port that she had just quitted. iNow, it was her 
wish to break the chain of traces connecting her 
with such a scamp as Urquiza ; since else, through 
his commercial correspondence, he might disperse 
over Peru a portrait of herself by no means flat- 
tering. How should she accomplish this \ It M^as 
dark ; and she stood, as you may see an Etonian 
do at times, rocking her little boat from side to 
side until it had taken in water as much as might 
be agreeable. Too much it proved for the boat’s 
constitution, and the boat perished of dropsy — 
Kate declining to tap it. She got a ducking her- 
self ; but what cared she ? Up the ship’s side she 
went, as gayly as ever, in those years when she 
was called pussy, she had raced after the nuns of 
St. Sebastian, jumped upon deck, and told the 
first lieutenant, when he questioned her about 
her adventures, quite as much truth as any man, 
under the rank of admiral, had a right to ex- 
pect. 

This shij) was full of recruits for the Spanish 
army, and bound for Conception. Even in that 


46 


THE SPANISH NUN 


destiny was an iteration or repeating memorial of 
the significance that ran through Catalina’s most 
casual adventures. She had enlisted amongst 
the soldiers ; and, on reaching port, the very first 
person who came off from shore was a dashing 
young military officer, whom at once, by his name 
and rank (though she had never consciously seen 
him,) she identified as her own brother. 

He was splendidly situated in the service, being 
the governor general’ s secretary ; besides his rank 
as a cavalry officer ; and, his errand on board 
being to inspect the recruits, naturally, on read- 
ing in the roll one of them described as a Biscayan, 
the ardent young man came up with highbred 
courtesy to Catalina, took the young recruit’s 
hand with kindness, feeling that to be a com- 
patriot at so great a distance was to be a sort of 
relative, and asked with emotion after old boyish 
remembrances. There was a scriptural pathos in 
what followed, as if it were some scene of domes- 
tic reunion opening itself from patriarchal ages. 
The young officer was the eldest son of the house, 
and had left Spain when Catalina was only three 
years old. But, singularly enough, Catalina it 
was, the little wild cat that he yet remembered 
seeing at St. Sebastians, upon whom his earliest 
inquiries settled. ‘'Did the recruit know his 


THE SPANISH NUN 


47 


family, the De EraiisosT’ O, yes; every body 
knew them, “Did the recruit know little Cata- 
lina ^ ’ Catalina smiled as she replied that she 
did, and gave such an animated description of the 
little fiery wretch as made the officer’s eyes flash 
with gratified tenderness, and with certainty that 
the recruit was no counterfeit Biscayan. Indeed, 
you know, if Kate could not give a good d^crip- 
tion of “pussy,” who could? The issue of the 
interview was, that the officer insisted on Kate’s 
making a home of his quarters. He did. other 
services for his unknown sister. He i)laced her 
as a trooper in his own regiment, and favored her 
in many a way that is open to one having author- 
ity. But the person, after all, that did most to 
serve our Kate, was Kate. War was then raging 
with Indians both from Chili and Peru. Kate 
had always done her duty in action ; but at 
length, in the decisive battle of Puren, there was 
an opening for doing some thing more. Havoc 
had been made of her own squadron ; most of the 
officers were killed, and the standard was carried 
off. Kate gathered around her a small party — 
galloped after the Indian column that was carry- 
ing away the trophy — charged— saw all her own 
party killed — but (in spite of wounds on her face 
and shoulder) succeeded in bearing away the re- 


48 


THE EPANISH NUN. 


covered standard. She rode up to the general and 
his staff ; she dismounted ; she rendered up her 
prize, and fainted away, much less from the 
blinding blood than from the tears of joy which 
dimmed her eyes as the general, waving his sword 
in admiration over her head, pronounced our 
Kate on the spot an alferez^ or standard bearer, 
with a commission from the King of bpainand the 
Indies: Bonny Kate ! noble Kate ! I would there 
were not two centuries laid between us, so that I 
might have the pleasure of kissing thy fair hand. 

Kate had the good sense to see the danger of re- 
vealing her sex, or her relationship, even to her 
own brother. The grasp of the church never re- 
laxed, never ‘‘prescribed,” unless freely and by 
choice. The nun, if discovered, would have been 
taken out of the horse barracks or the dragoon 
saddle. She had the firmness, therefore, for 
many years to resist the sisterly impulses that 
sometimes, suggested such a confidence. For 
years, and those years the most important of her 
life, — the years that developed her character, — 
she lived undetected as a brilliant cavalry officer 
under her brother’ s patronage ; and the bitterest 
grief in poor Kate’s whole life was the tragical, 
(and, were it not fully attested, one might say 
the ultra-scenical) event tl>at dissolved their long 


THE SPANISH NUN. 


49 


connection. Let me spend a word of. apology on 
poor Kate’s errors. 

We all commit many — both you and I, reader. 
No, stop ; that’s not civil. You, reader, I know, 
are a saint ; I am not^ though very near it. I do 
err at long intervals ; and then I think with in- 
dulgence of the many circumstances that plead 
for this poor girl. The Spanish armies of that 
day inherited, from the days of Cortez and Pizar- 
ro, shining remembrances of martial prowess and 
the very worst of ethics. To thinklittle of blood- 
shed, to quarrel, to fighti, to gamble, to plunder, 
belonged to the very atmosphere of a camp, to its 
indolence, to its ancient traditions. In your own 
defence, you were obliged to do such things. Be- 
sides all these grounds of evil, the Spanish army 
had just there an extra demoralization from a war 
with savages faithless and bloody, Do not think, 
I beseech you, too much, reader, of killing a man. 
That word is sprinkled over every page of 

Kate’s own autobiography. It ought not to be 
read by the light of these days. Yet, how if a 

man that she killed were ? Hush ! It was 

sad, but is better hurried over in a few words. 
Years after this period, a young officer one day, 
dining with Kate, entreated her to become his 
second in a duel. Such things were every-day af- 


50 


THE SPANISH NUN. 


fairs. However, Kate liad reasons for declining 
the service and did so ; but the officer, as he was 
sullenly departing, said, that, if he were killed, 
(as he thought he should be,) his death would lie 
at Kate’s door. I do not take his view of the 
case, and am not moved by his rhetoric or his 
logic. Kate and relented. 'The duel was 

fixed for eleven at night, under the walls of a 
monastery. Unhappily the night, proved unusu- 
ally dark, so that the two principles had to tie 
white handkerchiefs round their elbows in order 
to descry each other. In the confusion they 
wounded each other mortally. Upon that, ac- 
cording to a usage not peculiar to Spaniards, but 
extending (as doubtless the reader knows) for a 
century longer to our own countrymen, the two 
seconds were obliged, in honor, to do some thing 
towards avenging their principals. Kate had her 
usual fatal luck. Her sword passed sheer through 
the body of her opponent. This unknown oppo- 
nent, falling dead, had just breath left to cry 
out, ‘‘Ah, villain, you have killed me!” in a 
voice of horrific reproach ; and the voice was the 
voice of her brother I 

The monks of the monastery under whose silent 
shadows this murderous duel had taken place, 
roused by the clashing of swords and the angry 


THE SPANISH NUN 


51 



shouts of combatants, issued out with torches to 
hnd one only of the four officers surviving. Every 
convent and altar had a right of asylum for a 
short period. According to the custom, the 
monks carried Kate, insensible with anguish of 
mind, to the sanctuary of their chapel. There, for 
some days, they detained h\er ; but then, having 
furnished her with a horse and some provisions, 
they turned her adrift. Which way should the 
unhappy fugitive turn? In blindness of heart, 
she turned towards the sea. It was the sea that 
had brought her to Peru ; it was the sea that 
would, perhaps, carry her away. It was the sea 
that had first showed her this land and its 
golden hopes ; it was the sea that ought to hide 
from her its fearful remembrances. The sea it 
was that had twice spared her life in extremities ; 
the sea it was that might now, if it choose, take 
back the bawble that it had spared in vain. 

Kate’s passage ovek the andes. 

Three days our poor heroine followed the coast, 
Her horse was then almost unable to move ; and, 
on 7izs account, she turned inland to a thicket for 
grass and slielter. As she drew near to it, a voice 
challenged, ‘‘ Who goes there f Kate answered, 

^ ‘ ^pain, ” ^ ‘ What people ” “A friend. ’ ’ It 


53 


TUE SPANISH NUN 


was two soldiers, deserters, and almost starving. 
Kate shared her provisions with these men ; and 
on hearing their plan, which was to go over the 
Cordilleras, she agieed to join the party. Their 
object was tlie wild one of seeking the river Do- 
rado^ whose waters rolled along golden sands and 
Avhose pebbles were emeralds. Hers was to throw 
herself upon a line the least liable to x^ursnit, and 
the readiest for a new chapter of life in which ob- 
livion might be found for the jmst. After a few 
days of incessant climbing and fatigue, they found 
themselves in the regions of x)erpetual snow. 
Summer would come as vainly to this kingdom 
of frost as to the grave of her brother. No lire, 
but the fire of human blood in youthful veins, 
could e^er be kept biirning in these aerial soli- 
tudes. Fuel was rarely to be found, and kind- 
ling a secret h'ardly known except to Indians. 
However, our Kate can do every thing ; and she’ s 
the girl, if ever girl did such a thing, or ever girl 
did not such a thing, that I back at any odds for 
crossing the Cordilleras. I would bet you some- 
thing now, reader, if I thought you would de- 
posit your stakes by return of X)ost, (as they x)lay 
at chess through the post office,) that Kate does 
the trick ; that she gets down to the other side ; 
that the soldiers do not; and that the horse, if 


THE SPANISH NUN 53 

preserved at all, is preserved in a way that will 
leave liiin very little to boast of. 

The party had gathered wild berries and escu - 
lent roots at the foot of the mountains, and the 
horse was of very great use in carrying them. 
But this larder was soon emptied. There Avas 
nothing then to carry ; so that the horse’s value 
as a beast of burden fell cent, per cent. In fact, 
very soon he could not carry himself, and it be- 
came easy to calculate Avhen he would reach the 
1)0 1 tom on the Avrong side of the Cordilleras. He 
took three steps back for one upwards. A coun- 
cil of war being held, the small army resolved to 
slaughter their horse. He, though a member of 
the expedition, had no vote ; and, if he had, the 
votes would have stood three to one — majority, 
tAvo against him. He was cut into quarters, 
which surprises me ; for, unless one quarter was 
considered his own share, it reminds one too 
much of this amongst the many facetice of Eng- 
lish midshipmen, Avho ask (on any one of their 
number looking sulky) ‘Hf it is his intention to 
marry and retire from the service upon a super- 
annuation of £4 45. a year, paid quarterly 
by way of bothering the purser.” - The purser 
can’ t do it with the help of farthings ; and, as re- 
spects aliquot parts, four shares among three per- 


54 


THE SPANISH NUN. 


fcons are as incommensurable as a guinea against; 
any attempt at giving change in half crowns. 
However, this was all the preservation that the 
horse found. Ho saltpetre or sugar could be had ; 
but the frost was antiseptic ; and the hors^ was 
preserved in as useful a sense as ever apricots 
were ju-eserved, or strawberrie^ 

On a fire, painfully devised out of broom and 
withered leaves, a horsesteak was dressed. For 
drink, snow was allowed a discretion. This 
ought to have revived the party ; and Kate, i)er- 
hai')S, it did. But the poor deserters were thinly 
clad, and they had not the boiling heart of Cata- 
lina. More and more they drooped. Kate did 
her best to cheer them. But the march was near- 
ly at an end for them, and they were going in one 
half hour to receive their last billet. Yet, before 
this consummation, they have a strange spectacle 
to see, such as few places could show but the 
upper chamber of the Cordilleras. They had 
reached a billowy scene of rocky masses, large and 
small, looking shockingly black on their ^Deri^en- 
dicular sides as they rose out of the vast snow^y 
expanse. Upon the highest of these that was ac- 
cessible Kate mounted to look around her ; and 
she saw — 0, rapture at such an hour ! — a man 
sitting on a shelf of rock, with a gun by his side. 


thej spantb-^ nun. 55 

She shouted with joy to lier comrades, and ran 
down to communicate the joyful news. Here was 
a sportaman, watching, perhaps, for an eagle ; 
and now they would have relief. One man’s 
cheek kindled with the hectic of sudden joy, and 
he rose eagerly to march. The other was fast 
sinking under the fatal sleep that Frost sends be- 
fore herself as her merciful minister of death ; but 
hearing in his dream the tidings of relief, and as- 
sisted by his friends, he also staggeringly arose. 
It could not be three minutes’ walk, Kate thought, 
to the station of the sportsman. That thought 
supported them all. Under Kate’s guidance, who 
had taken a sailor’s glance at the bearings, they 
soon unthreaded the labyrinth of rocks so far as 
to bring the man within view. He had not left 
his resting-place ; their steps on the soundless 
snow, naturally, he could not hear ; and, as their 
road brought them upon him from the rear, still 
less could he see them. Kate hailed him ; but so 
keenly was he absorbed in some speculation, or 
in the object of his watching, that he took no no- 
tice of them, not even m^oving his head. Kate 
began to think there would be another man to 
rouse from sleep. Coming close behind him she 
touched his shoulder, and said, “My friend, you 
are sleeping?” Yes, he was sleeping — sleeping 


56 


THIS SPANISH NUN 


the sleep from which there is no awaking; and 
the slight touch of Kate having disturbed tlie 
equilibrium of the corpse, down it rolled on 
the snow ; the frozen body rang like a hollow 
iron cylinder, the face uppermost and blue 
with mould, mouth open, teeth ghastly and 
bleaching in the frost, and ' a frightful grin 
upon the lips. This dreadful spectacle finished 
the struggles of the weaker man, who sank and 
died at once. The other made an effort with 
so much spirit, that, in Kate’s opinion, horror had 
acted upon him beneficially as a stimulant. But 
it was not really so ; it was a spasm of morbid 
strength. A collapse succeeded ; his blood be- 
gan to freeze ; he sat down in spite of Kate ; and 
he also died without further struggle. Gone are 
the poor, suffering deserters, stretched and bleach- 
ing upon the snow ; and insulted discipline is 
avenged. Great kings have long arms ; and sy- 
cophants are ever at hand for the errand of the 
potent. What had frost and snow to do with the 
quarrel ? Yet they made themselves sycophantic 
servants of the King cf Spain ; and they dogged 
his deserters up to the summit of the Cordilleras 
more surely than any Spanish bloodhound or any 
Spanish tirailleur’s bullet. 

Now is our Kate standing alone on the summits 


THE SVANim HUH. 


57 


of the Andes in solitude that is shocking ; for she 
is alone with her own afflicted conscience. Twice 
before she had stood in solitude as deep upon the 
wild, wild waters of the Pacific ; but her consci- 
ence had been then untroubled. Now is there no- 
body left that can help ; her horse is dead ; the 
soidiers are dead. There is nobody that she can 
speak to except God ; and very soon you will find 
that she does speak to him ; for already on these 
vast aerial deserts he has been whispering to her. 
The condition of Kate is exactly that of Coler- 
idge’s Ancient Mariner. But possibly, reader, 
you may be amongst the many careless readers 
that have never fully understood what that con- 
dition was. Suffer me to enlighten you, else you 
ruin the story of the niaiinei*, and, by losing all 
its pathos, lose half the jewels of its beauty. 

There are three readers of the Ancient Mariner. 
The first is gross enough to fancy all the imagery 
of the mariner’s visions delivered by the poet for 
actual facts of experience ; which being impos- 
sible, the whole pulverizes, for that reader, into a 
baseless fairy tale. The second reader is wiser 
tlvavLthat ; he knows that that the imagery 
baseless-; it is the imagery of febrile delirium, 
ivally seen, but not seen a« an external reality. 
The mariner had (*,au:dit the pestilential fever, 


58 


2HE SPANISH NUN. 


whicli carried oif all liis mates ; he only had sur- 
vived — the delirium had vanished, but the 
visions that had haunted the delirium remained. 
‘‘Yes,” says the third reader,” “ they remained ; 
naturally they did, being scorched by fever into 
his brain ; but how did they happen to remain 
on his belief as gospel truths The delirium had 
vanished ; why had not the painted scenery of 
the delirium vanished, except as visionary me- 
morials of a sorrow that was cancelled? Why 
was it that craziness settled upon this mariner's 
brain, driving him, as if he were a Cain or another 
Wandering Jew, to ‘pass like night — from 
land to land,’ and, at uncertain intervals, wrench- 
ing him until he made rehearsal of his errors, 
even at the hard price of ‘ holding children from 
their play and the old men from the chimney 
corner’ ” ? That craziness, as the third reader de- 
ciphers, rose out of a deeper soil than any bodily 
alfection. It had its root in penitential sorrow. 
0, bitter is the sorrow to a conscientious heart 
when too late it discovers the depth of a love that 
has been trampled under foot ! This mariner 
had slain the creature that, on all the earth, loved 
him best. In the darkness of his cruel supersti- 
tion he had done it, to save his human brothers 
from a fancied inconvenience; and yet, by that 


THE SPANISH NUN. 


59 


very act of cruelty, he had himself called de- 
struction upon their heads. The Nemesis that 
followed punished 7iim through them — him that 
wronged, through those that wrongfully he/ 
sought to benefit. That spirit who watches over 
the sanctities of love is a strong angel — is a 
jealous angel and this angel it was 

“ That loved the bird, that loved the man, 

That shot him with his bow.” 

He it was that followed the cruel archer into si- 
lent and slumbering seas : 

“ Nine fathom deep had followed him 

Througdi the realms of mist and snow.” 

This jealous angel it was that pursued the man 
into noonday darkness, and the vision of dying 
oceans, into delirium, and, finally, (wlien recov- 
ered from disease,) into an unsettled mind. 

Such, also, had been the offence of Kate ; such, 
also, was the punishment tliat now is dogging her 
' steps. She, like the mariner, had slain the one 
sole creature that loved her upon the whole wide 
earth ; she, like the mariner, for this offence, had 
been hunted into frost and snow — very soon will 
be hunted into delirium ; and from that (if she es-' 
capes with life) will be hunted into the trouble of 
a heart that cannot rest. There was the excuse 


TIIK bP^NISII NUN. 


m 

of one darkness for tier; there was the excuse of 
another darkness for the maiiner ; but, with all 
the excuses that earth, and the darkness of earth, 
can furnish, bitter it would be for you or me read- 
er, through every hour of life, waking or dream- 
ing, to look back upon one fatal moment when 
we had pierced the heart that would have died for 
us. In this only the darkness had been merciful 
to Kate — that it had hidden forever from her vic- 
tim the hand that slew him. But now, in such 
utter solitude, her thoughts ran back to their 
earliest interview. She remembered with anguish 
how, on first touching the shores of America, al- 
most the very first word that met her ear had been 
from liim^ tlie brother whom she had killed, about 
the “pussy” of times long past ; how the gallant 
young man had hung upon her words as in her 
native Basque she described her own mischievous 
little self of twelve years back ; how his color 
went and came whilst his loving memory of the 
little sister was revived by her own descrqotive 
traits, giving back, as in a mirror, the fawn- like 
grace, the squirrel-like restlessness, that once had 
Idndled his own delighted laughter ; how he would 
take no denial, but showed on the spot, that sim- 
ply to have touched, to have* kissed, to have 
plaj^'ed with the little wild thing that glorified 


Tllh: SPANISH NUN. 


61 


by her innocence the ^’loom of St. Sebastian’s 
cloisters, gave a right to his hospitality ; how, 
through Mm only, she had found a welcome in 
camps ; how, through him^ she had found the 
avenue to honor and distinction. And yet this 
brother, so loving and generous, it was that she 
had dismissed from life. She paused ; she turned 
round, as if looking back for his grave ; she saw 
the dreadful wildernesses, of snow which already 
she had traversed. Silent they were at this 
season, even as, in the panting heats of noon, the 
Zaarrahs of the torrid zone are oftentimes silent. 
Dreadful was the silence ; it was the nearest thing 
to the silence of the grave. C!-raves.'Were at the 
foot of the Andes — that^\\Q knew too well ; graves 
were at the summit of the Andes — that saw 

too well ; and, as she gazed, a sudden thought 
flashed upon her when her eyes settled upon the 
corpses of the poor deserters: Could she, like 
them^ have been all this time unconsciously exe- 
cuting judgment upon herself — running from a 
wrath that was doubtful into the very jaws of a 
wrath that was inexorable — dying in panic, and 
behold there was no man that pursued? For the 
first time in her life, Kate trembled ; not for the 
first time, Kate»we])t ; far less for the first time 
was it that Kate bent her knee — that Kate clasped 


62 


TEE SPANISH NUN. 


lier hands — that Kate prayed ; but it was the first 
time that she pi’ayed as they pray for whom no 
more hope is left but in prayer. 

Here let me pause a moment for the sake of 
making somebody angry. A Frenchman, who 
sadly misjudges Kate, looking at her through a 
Parisian cpera glass, gives it as Ms opinion, that 
because Kate first ecords her prayer on this oc- 
casion, therefore now first of all she prayed. I 
think not so ; I love this Kate, bloodstained as 
she is ; and I could not love a woman that never 
bent her knee in thankfulness or in supplication. 
However, we have all a right to cur own little 
opinion; and it is not you., ‘^mon cher., ' yon 
Frenchman, that I am angry with, but somebody 
else that stands behind you. You, Frenchman, 
and your compatriots, I love oftentimes for your 
festal gayety of heart ; and I quarrel only with 
your levity and that eternal worldliness that 
freezes too fiercly — that absolutely blisters with 
its frost — like the upper air of the Andes. You 
speak of Kate only as too readily you speak of 
all women — the instinct of a natural scepticism 
being to scoff at all hidden depths of truth ; else 
you are civil enough to Kate ; and your ^^homagd^ 
(such as it may happen to be) is always at the 
service of a women on the shortest notice. But, 


THE SPANISH NUN 


63 


behind you^ I see a worse fellow ; a gloomy fana- 
tic ; a religions sycophant, that seeks to propitiate 
his circle by bitterness against the offenses that 
are most unlike his own ; and against him I must 
say one word for Kate to the too hasty reader. 
This villain, whom I mark for a shot if he does 
not get out of the way, opens his fire on our Kate 
under shelter of a lie ; for there is a standing lie 
in the very constitution of civil society, a neces- 
sity of error, misleading us as to the proportions 
of crime. Mere necessity obliges man to create 
many acts into felonies, and to punish them as 
the heaviest offences, which his better sense 
teaches him secretly to regard as perhaps among 
the lightest. Those poor deserters, for instance, 
— were they necessarily without excuse ? They 
might have been oppressively used ; but in critical 
times of war, no matter for the individual pallia- 
tions, the deserter from his colors must be shot — 
there is no help for it ; as, in extremities of gen- 
eral damine, we shoot the man (alas ! we are 
obliged to shoot him) that is found robbing the 
common stores in order to feed his own perishing 
children, though the offence is hardly visible in 
the sight of God. Only blockheads adjust their 
scale of guilt to the scale of human punishments. 
Now, our wicked friend, the fanatic, who culmi- 


64 


THE SPANISH NUN 


nates Kate, abuses the advantage, which, for such 
a purpose, he derives from the exaggerated social 
estimate of all violence. Personal security being 
so main an object of social union, we are obliged 
to frown upon all modes of violence as hostile to 
the central principle of that union. We are 
obliged to rate it according to the universal re- 
sults towards which it tends, and scarcely at all 
according to the special condition of circumstances 
in which it may originate. 

Hence a horror arises for that class of oifences 
which is (philosophically speaking) exaggerated ; 
and by daily use, the ethics of a police office 
translate themselves insensibly into the ethics even 
of religious people. But I tell that sycophaii- 
tish fanatic, not this only, — viz., that he abuses 
unfairly, against Kate, the advantage which he 
has from the inemtably distorted bias of society, 
— but also I tell him this second little thing, viz;, 
that, upon turning away the glass from that one 
obvious aspect of Kate's character, — her too hery 
disposition to vindicate all rights by violence,— 
and viewing her in relation to general religious 
capacities, she was a thousand times more j^rom- 
isingly endowed than himself. It is impossible 
to be noble in many things without having many 
points of contact with true religion. If you deny 


THE SPANISH NUN 


65 


that^ you it is that calumniate religion. Kate was 
noble in many things. Her worst errors never 
took a shape of self-interest or deceit. She was 
brave, she was generous, she was forgiving, she 
bore no malice, she was full of truth — qualities 
that God loves either in man or woman. She 
hated sycophants and dissemblers. I hate them ; 
and more than ever at this moment, on her be- 
half. I wish she were but here to give a punch 
on the head to that fellow who traduces her. 
And, coming round again to the occasion from 
which this short digression has started, — viz., the 
question raised by the Frenchman, whether Kate 
were a person likely to jpray under other circum- 
stances than those of extreme danger, — I offer it 
as my opinion that she was. Violent people are 
not always such from choice, but perhaps from 
situation ; and, though the circumstances of 
Kate’s position allowed her little means for real- 
izing her own wishes, it is certain that those 
wishes pointed continually to peace and an un- 
worldly happiness, if that were possible. The 
stormy clouds that enveloped her in camps open- 
ed overhead at intervals, showing her a far-dis- 
tant blue serene. She yearned, at many times, 
for the rest which is not in camps or armies ; and 
at is certain that she ever combined with any 
3 


THE SPANISH NUN 


plans or daydreams of tranquility, as tlieir most 
essential ally, some aid derived from that dove- 
like religion which at St. Sebastian’s, as an infant 
and through girlhood, she had been taught so 
profoundly to adore. 

Now, let us rise from this discussion of Kate 
against libellers, as Kate herself is rising from 
prayer, and consider in conjunction with her the 
character and promise of that dreadful ground 
which lies immediately before her. What is to 
be thought of it ? I could wish we had a theodo- 
lite here, and a spirit level, and other instruments, 
for settling some important questions. Y et no ; 
on consideration, if one had a wish allowed by 
that kind fairy without whose assistance it would 
be quite impossible to send even for the spirit 
level, nobody would throw away the wish upon 
things so paltry. I would not put the fairy upon 
any such errand ; I would order the good creature 
to bring no spirit level, but a stiff glass of spirits, 
for Kate — a palanquin, and relays of fifty stout 
bearers, all drunk, in order that they might not 
feel the cold. The main interest at this moment 
and the main difficulty — indeed, the ‘‘open ques- 
tion” of the case, was, to ascertain whether the 
ascent were yet accomplished, or not ; and when 


THE BPANISH NUH. 


67 


would the descent commence ? or had it, perhaps, 
long commenced ? 

The character of the ground, in those imme- 
diate successions that could be connected by the 
eye, decided nothing ; for the undulations of the 
level had been so continual for miles as to perplex 
any eye but an engineer’s in attempting to judge 
whether, upon the whole, the tendency were up- 
wards or downwards. Possibly it was yet neither 
way ; it is, indeed, probable that Kate had been 
for some time traveling along a series of terraces 
that traversed the whole breadth of the topmost 
area at that point of crossing the Cordilleras, and 
which, perhaps, but not certainly, compensated 
any casual tendency downwards by correspond- 
ing reascents. Then came the question. How 
long would these terraces yet continue ? and had 
the ascending parts really balanced the descend- 
ing ? Upon that seemed to rest the final chance 
for Kate ; because, unless she very soon reached 
a lower level and a warmer atmosphere, mere 
weariness would oblige her to lie down under a 
fierceness of cold that would not suffer her to rise 
after once losing the warmth of motion ; or, in- 
versely, if she even continued in motion, mere 
extremity of cold would, of itself, speedily ab- 


68 


THE SPANISH NUN 


sorb the little surplus energy for moving which 
yet remained unexhausted by weariness. 

At this stage of her progress, and whilst the 
agonizing question seemed yet as indeterminate as 
ever, Kate’s struggle with despair, which had been 
greatly soothed by the fervor of her prayers, re- 
volved upon her in deadlier blackness. All 
turned, she saw, upon a race against time and the 
arrears of the road ; and she, poor thing ! how 
little qualified could she be, in such a condition, 
for a race of any kind, and against two such ob- 
stinate brutes as time and space ! This hour of 
the progress, this noontide of Kate’s struggle, 
must have been the very crisis of the whole. De- 
spair was rapidly tending to ratify itself. Hope, 
in any degree would be a cordial for sustaining 
her efforts. But to flounder along a dreadful 
chaos of snow drifts, or snow chasms, towards a 
point of rock, which, being turned, should ex- 
pose only another interminable succession of the 
same character, — might that be endured by ebb- 
ing spirits, by stiffening limbs, by the ghastly 
darkness that was now beginning to gather upon 
the inner eye ? And, if once despair became tri- 
umphant, all the little arreary of physical strength 
would collapse at once. 

0 verdure of human fields, cottages of men and 


THE SPANISH NUN. 


69 


women, (that now suddenly seemed all brothers 
and sisters,) cottages with children around them 
at play, that are so far below, — O summer and 
spring, flowers and blossoms, to which, as to Ms 
symbols, God has given the gorgeous j^rivilege of 
rehearsing forever upon earth his most mysterious 
perfection — life and the resurrections of life, — is 
ii indeed true that poor Kate may never see you 
more ? Mutteringly she put that question to her- 
self ; but strange are the caprices of ebb and flow 
in the deep fountains of human sensibilities. At 
this very moment, when an utter incapacitation 
of despair was gathering fast at Kate’s heart, a 
sudden lightning shot far into her spirit, a reflux 
almost supernatural, from the earliest effects of 
her prayer. A thought had struck her all at 
once ; and this thought prompted her immediate- 
ly to turn round. Perhaps it was in some blind 
yearning after the only memorials of life in this 
frightful region that she flxed her eye upon a 
point of hilly ground, by which she identified the 
spot near which the three corpses were lying. 

The silence seemed deeper than ever. Neither 
was there any phantom memorial of life for the 
eye or for the ear, nor wing of bird, nor echo, nqr 
green leaf, nor creeping thing that moved or stir- 
red upon the soundless waste. 0, what a relief 


70 


THE SPANISH NUN. 


to this burden of silence would be a human groan ! 
Here seemed a motive for still darker despair ; 
and yet at that very moment a pulse of joy began 
to thaw the ice at her heart. It struck her, as 
she reviewed the ground, that undoubtedly it had 
been for some time slowly descending. Her 
senses were much dulled by suffering ; but this 
thought it was, suggested by a sudden apprehen- 
sion of a continued descending movement, which 
had caused her to turn round. Sight had con- 
firmed the suggestion first derived from her own 
steps. The distance attained was now sufficient 
to establish the tendency. O, yes, yes, to a cer- 
tainty she had been descending for some time. 
Frightful was the spasm of joy which whispered 
that the worst was over. It was as when the 
shadow of midnight, that murderers had relied 
on, is passing away from your beleaguered shel- 
ter, and dawn will soon be manifest. It was as 
when a ffood, that all day long has raved against 
the walls of your house, has ceased (you sudden- 
ly think) to rise: yes, measured by a golden 
plummet, it is sinking beyond a doubt, and the 
darlings of your household are saved. Kate 'faced 
round in agitation to her proper direction. She 
saw, what previously in her stunning confusion 
she had not seen, that, hardly two stones’ throw 


THE SPANISH NUN 


71 


in advance, lay a mass of rock, split as into a 
gateway. Through that opening it now became 
probable that the road was lying. Hurrying for- 
ward, she passed within the natural gates — gates 
of paradise they were. Ah, what a vista did that 
gateway expose before her dazzled eye ! what a 
revelation of heavenly promise ! Full two miles 
long stretched a long, narrow glen, every where 
descending, and in many parts rapidly. All was 
now placed beyond a doubt. She was descend- 
ing, for hours, perhaps, had been descending, in- 
sensibly, the mighty staircase. Yes, Kate is 
leaving behind her the kingdom of frost and the 
victories of death. Two miles farther there may 
be rest, if there is not shelter. And very soon, as 
the crest of her newborn happiness, she distin- 
guished at the other end of that rocky vista a pa- 
vilion-shaped mass of dark-green foliage — a belt 
of trees, such as we see in the lovely parks of 
England, but islanded by a screen (though not 
every where occupied by the usurpations) of a 
thick, bushy undergrowth. O verdure of dark 
olive foliage, olfered suddenly to fainting eyes as 
if by some winged patriarchal herald of wrath re- 
lenting, — solitary Arab’s tent rising with saintly 
signals of peace in the dreadful desert, — must 
Kate indeed die even yet whilst she sees but can- 


73 


THE SPANISH NUN 


not reach you ? Outpost on the frontier of man’s 
dominions, standing within life, but looking out 
upon everlasting death, wilt thou hold up the 
anguish of thy mocking invitation only to betray ? 
IN’ ever, perhaps, in this world was the line so ex- 
quisitely grazed that parts salvation and ruin. As 
the dove to her dovecot from the swooping hawk, 
as the Christian pinnace to Christian batteries 
from the bloody Mahometan corsair, so flew, so 
tried to fly, towards the anchoring thickets, that, 
alas ! could not weigh theii; anchors and make 
sail to meet her, the poor, exhausted Kate from 
the vengeance of pursuing frost. 

And she reached them. Staggering, fainting, 
reeling, she entered beneath the canopy of um- 
brageous trees. But, as oftentimes the Hebrew 
fugitive to a city of refuge, flying for his life be- 
fore the avenger of blood, was pressed so hotly, 
that, on entering the archway of what seemed to 
him the'^heavenly city gate, as he kneeled in deep 
thankfulness to kiss its holy, merciful shadow, 
he could not rise again, but sank instantly with 
infant weakness into sleep — sometimes to wake 
no more,— so sank, so collapsed upon the ground, 
without power to choose her couch, and with 
little prospect of ever rising again to her feet, the 
martial nun. She lay, as luck had ordered it. 


THE SPANISH NUN 


73 


with her head screened by the undergrowth of 
bushes from any gale that might arise ; she lay 
exactly as she sank, with her eyes up to heaven. 
And thus it was that the nun saw before falling 
asleep, the two sights that upon earth are fittest 
for the closing eyes of a nun, whether destined to 
open again or to close forever. She saw the in- 
terlacing of boughs overhead, forming a dome 
that seemed like the dome of a cathedral. She 
saw through the fretwork of the foliage another 
dome, far beyond — the dome of an evening sky — 
the dome of some heavenly cathedral not built 
with hands. She saw upon this upper dome the 
vesper lights, all alive with pathetic grandeur of 
coloring from a sunset that had just been rolling 
down like a chorus. She had not till now con- 
sciously observed the time of day : whether it 
were morning, or whether it were > afternoon, in 
her confusion she had not distinctly known. But 
now she whispered to herself, It is evening 
and what lurked half unconsciously in these 
words might he : ‘‘The sun, that rejoices, has 
finished his days toil ; man that labors, has finish- 
ed Ms; I, that suffer, have finished mine.” That 
might be what she thought ; but what she said 
was, “It is evening ; and the hour is come when 
the Angelus is sounding through St. Sebastian.” 


74 


THE SPANISH NUN 


What made her think of St. Sebastian, so far 
away in the depths and space of time ? Her brain 
was wandering now that her feet were not; and, 
because her eyes had descended from the heavenly 
to the earthly dome, that made her think of 
earthly cathedrals, and of cathedral choirs, and 
of St. Sebastian’ s chapel, with its silvery bells 
that carried the Angelas far into mountain re- 
cesses. Perhaps, as her wanderings increased, 
she thought herself back in childhood ; became 
pussy ” once again ; fancied that all since then 
was a frightful dream ; that she was not upon 
the dreadful Andes, but still kneeling in the holy 
chapel at vespers ; still innocent as then ; loved as 
then she had been loved ; and that all men were 
liars who said her hand was ever stained with 
blood. Little enough is mentioned of the delus- 
ions which possessed her ; but that little gives a 
key to the impulse which her palpitating heart 
obeyed and which her rambling brain forever re- 
produced in multiplying mirrors. Kestlessness 
kept her in waking dreams for a brief half hour. 
But then fever and delirium would wait no longer; 
the killing exhaustion would no longer be refused; 
the fever, the delirium, and the exhaustion swept 
in together with power like an army with banners ; 
and the nun ceased through the gathering twi- 


THE SPANISH NUN 


75 


light any more to -watch the cathedrals of earth 
or the more solemn cathedrals that rose in the 
heavens ab9ve. 

All night long she slept in her verdurous St. 
Bernard’s hospice without awaking ; and whether 
she would ever awake seemed to depend upon an 
accident. The slumber that towered above her 
brain was like that fluctuating, silvery column 
which stands in scientific tubes — sinking, rising, 
deepening, lightening, contracting, expanding ; 
or like the mist that sits through sultry after- 
noons upon the river of the American St. Peter, 
sometimes rarefying for minutes into sunny 
gauze, sometimes condensing for hours into palls 
of funeral darkness. You fancy that, after twelve 
hours of sleep, she must have been refreshed; 
better, at least than she was last night. Ah, but 
'sleep is not always sent 'upon missions of re- 
freshment : sleep is sometimes the secret cham- 
ber in which Death arranges his machinery : sleep 
is sometimes that deep, mysterious atmosphere 
in which the human spirit is slowly unsett- 
ling its wings for flight from earthly tenements. 
It is now eight o’clock in the morning; and, to 
all appearance, if Kate should receive no aid be- 
fore noon, when next the sun is departing to his 
rest, Kate will be departing to hers ; when next 


76 


THE SPANISH NUN 


tlie sun is holding out his golden Christian signal 
to man that the hour is come for letting his anger 
go down, Kate will be sleeping away forever into 
the arms of brotherly forgiveness. 

What is wanted just now for Kate, supposing 
Kate herself to be wanted by this world, is, that 
this world would be kind enough to send her a 
little brandy before it is too late. The simple 
truth was, — and a truth which I have known to 
take place in more ladies than Kate, who died, or 
did not die, accordingly as they had an adviser 
like myself, capable of giving so sound an opinion, 
— that the jewelly star of life had descended too 
far down the arch towards setting for any chance 
of reascending by spontaneous effort. The fire 
was still burning in secret, but needed to be re- 
kindled by j)otent artificial breath. It lingered, 
and might linger, but would never culminate 
again without some stimulus from earthly vine- 
yards. Kate was ever lucky, though ever un- 
fortunate ; and the world, being of my opinion, 
that Kate was worth saving, made up its mind 
about half past eight o’clock in the morning to 
save her. Just at that time, when the night was 
over and its sufferings were hidden in one of those 
intermittent gleams that for a moment or two 
lightened the clouds of her slumber, Kate’s dull 


THE SPANISH NUN 


77 


ear caught a sound that for years had spoken a 
familiar language to Tier. What was it ? It was 
the sound, though muffled and deadened, like the 
ear that heard it, of horsemen advancing. Inter- 
preted by the tumultuous dreams of Kate, was it 
the cavalry of Spain, at whose head so often had 
she charged the bloody Indian scalpers ? Was it, 
according to the legend of ancient days, cavalry 
that had been sown by her brother’ s blood, cav- 
alry that rose up from the ground on an inquest 
of retribution, and were racing up the Andes to 
seize her % Her dreams, that had opened sullenly 
to the sound, waited for no answer, but closed 
again in pompous darkness. 

Happily the horseman had caught the glimpse 
of some bright ornament, clasp, or aigulet on 
Kate’s dress. They were hunters and foresters 
from below — servants in the household of a bene- 
hcient lady; and, in some pursuit of flying game, 
had wandered beyond their ordinary limits. 
Struck by the sudden scintillation from Kate’s 
dress played upon by the morning sun, they rode 
up to the thicket. Great was their surprise, great 
their pity, to see a young officer stretched within 
the bushes upon the ground, and perhaps dying. 
Borderers from childhood on this dreadful fron- 
tier, sacred to winter and death, they understood 


78 


THE SPANISH NUN 


the case at once. They dismounted; and with the 
tenderness of women, raising the poor frozen cor- 
net in their arms, washed her temples with bran- 
dy, whilst one, at intervals, suffered a few drops 
to trickle within her lips. As the restoration of 
a warm bed was now most likely to be successful, 
they lifted the helpless stranger upon a horse, 
walking on each side with supporting arms. Once 
again our Kate is in the saddle — once again a 
Spanish caballdor. But Kate’s bridle hand is 
deadly cold; and her spurs, that she had never 
unfastened since leaving the monastic asylum, 
hung as idle as the flapping sail that Alls unstead- 
ily with the breeze upon a stranded ship. 

This procession had some miles to go and over 
difficult ground ; but at length it reached the 
forest-like park and the chateau of the wealthy 
proprietress. Kate was still half frozen and 
speechless except at intervals. Heavens ! can this 
corpselike, languishing young woman be the 
Kate that once in her radiant girlhood rode with 
a handful of comrades into a column of two 
thousand enemies; that saw her comrades die; 
that persisted when all were dead; that tore from 
the heart of all resistance the banner of her native 
Spain? Chance and change have ‘‘written 
strange defeatures in her face.” Much is chang- 


THE SPANISH NUN, 


ed; but tilings are not changed: there is still 
kindness that overflows with pity; there is still 
helplessness that asks for pity without a voice. 
She is now received by a senora not less kind than 
that maternal aunt, who on the night of her birth 
first welcomed her to a loving home; and she, the 
heroine of Spain, is herself as helpless now as 
that little lady who, at ten minutes of age, was 
kissed and blessed by all the household of St. 
Sebastian. 

Let us suppose Kate placed in a warm bed; let 
us suppose her in a few hours recovering steady 
consciousness; in a few days recovering some 
power of self-support; in a fortnight able to seek 
the gay saloon, where the senora was sitting 
alone, and rendering thanks, with that deep sin- 
cerity which ever characterized our wildhearted 
Kate, for the critical services received from that 
lady and her establishment. 

This lady, a widow, was what the French call 
a metisse^ the Spaniards mesUzza ; that is, the 
daughter of a genuine Spaniard and an Indian 
mother. I shall call her simply a ceole, which 
will indicate her want of pure Spanish blood 
sufiiciently to explain her deference for those 
who had it’ She was a kind, liberal woman ; 
rich, rather more than needed where there were 


80 


THE SPANISH NUN. 


no opera boxes to rent ; a widow about fifty 
years old in the wicked world’s account, some 
forty-four in her own ; and kappy, above all, in 
the possession of a most lovely daughter, whom 
even the wicked world did not accuse of more 
than sixteen years. This daughter, Juana, 

was But stop : let her open the door of the 

saloon in which the senora and the cornet are 
conversing, and speak for herself. She did so, 
after an hour had passed ; which length of time, 
to lier^ that never had any business whatever in 
her innocent life, seemed sufiicient to settle the 
business of the old world and the new. Had 
Pietro Diaz (as Catalina now called herself) been 
really a Peter, and not a sham Peter, what a 
vision of loveliness would have rushed upon his 
sensibilities as the door opened ! Do not expect 
me to describe her ; for which, however, there 
are materials extant, sleeping in archives, where 
they have slept for two hundred and twenty 
years. It is enough that she is reported to have 
united the stately tread of Andalusian women 
with the innocent voluptuousness of Peruvian 
eyes. As to her complexion and figure, be it 
known that Juana’s father was a gentleman from 
Grenada, having in his veins the grandest blood 
of all this earth, blood of Goths and Vandals, 


TEE SPANISH NUN. 


81 


tainted (for wMcli Heaven be thanked !) twice 
over with blood of Ardbs — once through Moors, 
once through Jews ; whilst from her grand- 
mother Juana drew the deep subtle melancholy 
and the beautiful contours of limb which belong 
to the Indian race — a race destined silently and 
slowly to fade from the earth. Ho awkwardness 
was, or could be, in this antelope, when gliding 
with forest grace into the room ; no townbred 
shame ; nothing but the unaffected pleasure of 
one who wishes to speak a fervent welcome, but 
knows not if she ought — the astonishment of a 
Miranda, bred in utter solitude, when first be- 
holding a princely Ferdinand ; and just so much 
reserve as to remind you that if Catalina thought 
fit to dissemble her sex, she did not. And con- 
sider, reader, if you look back and are a great 
arithmetician, that, whilst the senora had only 
fifty per cent, of Spanish blood, Juana had 
seventy-five ; so that her Indian melancholy, 
after all, was swallowed up for the present by 
her Vandal, by her Arab, by her Spanish fire. 

Catalina, seared as she was by the world, has 
left it evident in her memoirs that she was 
touched more than she wished to be by this 
innocent child. Juana formed a brief lull for 
Catalina in her too stormy existence ; and if for 


82 


THE SPANISH NUN 


her in tliis life the sweet reality of a sister had 
been possible, here was the sister she would have 
chosen. On the other hand, what might Juana 
think of the cornet % To have been thrown upon 
the kind hospitalities of her native home, to have 
been rescued by her mother’s servants from 
that fearful death which, lying but a few miles 
oif, had filled her nursery with traditionary 
tragedies, — thatv^2iS sufficient to create an interest 
in the stranger. But his bold martial demeanor, 
his yet youthful style of beauty, his frank man- 
ners, his animated conversation that reported a 
hundred contests with suffering and peril, 
wakened for the first time her admiration. Men 
she had never seen before, except menial servants 
or a casual priest , but here was a gentleman, 
young like herself, that rode in the cavalry of 
Spain ; that carried the banner of the only poten- 
tate whom Peruvians knew of — the King of the 
Spains and the Indies ; that had doubled Cape 
Horn ; that had crossed the Andes ; that had 
suffered shipwreck ; that had rocked upon fifty 
storms ; and had wrestled for life through fifty 
battles. 

The reader knows all that followed. The sister- 
ly love which Catalina did really feel for this 
young mountaineer was inevitably misconstrued. 


THE SPANISH NUN. 


83 


Embarrassed, but not able, from sincere affection, 
or almost in bare propriety, to refuse such, ex- 
pressions of feeling as corresponded to the artless 
and involuntary kindnesses of the ingenuous 
Juana, one day the cornet was surprised by 
mamma in the act of encircling her daughter’s 
waist with his martial arm, although waltzing 
was premature by at least two centuries in Peru. 
She taxed him instantly with dishonorably abus- 
ing her confidence. The cornet made but a bad 
defence. He muttered something fraternal 
affection f about ‘‘esteem,” and a great deal of 
metaphysicsl words that are destined to remain 
untranslated in their original Spanish. The good 
senora, though she could boast only of forty- 
four years’ experience, was not altogether to be 
in that fashion : she was as learned as if 
she had been fifty ; and she brought matters to a 
speedy crisis. “ You are a Spaniard,” she said, 

‘ ‘ a gentleman, therefore ; rememloer that you are 
a gentleman. This very night, if your intentions 
are not serious, quit my house. Go to Tucuman ; 
you shall command my horses and servants ; but 
stay no longer to increase the sorrow that already 
you will have left behind you. My daughter- 
loves you. That is sorrow enough, if you are 
trifling with us ; but if not, and you also love 7^er, 


84 


THE SPANISH NUN 


and can be liappy in our solitary mode of life, 
stay with us — stay forever. Marry Juana with 
my free consent. I ask not for wealth. Mine is 
sufficient for you both.” The cornet protested 
that the honor was one never contemplated by 

Mm — that it was too great — that Bui of 

course, reader, you know that ‘‘gammon” flour- 
ishes in Peru amongst the silver mines as w^ell as 
in some more boreal ' lands that jproduce little 
better than copper and tin. “Tin,” however, has 
its uses. The delighted senora overruled all ob- 
jections, great and small ; and she confirmed 
Juana’s notion, that the business of two worlds 
could be transacted in an hour, by settling her 
daughter’s future happiness in exactly twenty 
minutes. The poor, weak Catalina, not acting 
now in any spirit of recklessness, grieving sin- 
cerely for the gulf that was opening before her, 
and yet shrinking efleminately from the momen- 
tary shock that would be inflicted by a firm ad- 
herence to her duty, clinging to the anodyne of a 
short delay, allowed herself to be installed as the 
lover of Juana. Considerations of convenience, 
however, postponed the marriage. It was requi- 
site to make various purchases ; and for this it 
was requisite to visit Tucuman, where also the 
marriage ceremony could be performed with more 


THE SPANISH NUN 


85 


circumstantial splendor. To Tucuman, there- 
fore, after some weeks’ interval, the whole party 
repaired ; and at Tucuman it was that the tragic- 
al events arose which, whilst interrupting sugh 
a mockery forever, left the poor Juana still 
happily deceived, and never believing for a mo- 
ment that hers was a rejected or a deluded 
heart. 

One reporter of Mr. De Ferrer’ s narrative for- 
gets his usual generosity when he says that the 
senora’s gift of her daughter to the alferez was 
not quite so disinterested as it seemed to be. Cer- 
tainly it was not so disinterested as European 
ignorance might fancy it ; but it was quite as 
much so as it ought to have been in balancing the 
interests of a child. Very true it is, that, being 
a genuine Spaniard, who was still a rare creature 
in so vast a world as Peru, being a Spartan amongst 
Helots, an Englishman amongst savages, an alferez 
would in those days have been a natural noble. 
His alliance created honor for his wife and for his 
descendents. Something, therefore, the cornet 
would add to the family consideration. But, in- 
stead of selfishness, it argued just regard for her 
daughter’s interest to build upon this, as some 
sort of equipoise to the wealth which her daugh- 
ter would bring. 


86 


THE SPAmSH NUN. 


Spaniard; however, as he was, our alferez on 
reaching Tucuman, found no Spaniards to mix 
with, but, instead, twelve Portuguese. 

Catalina remembered the Spanish proverb — 

Subtract from a Spaniard all his good qualities, 
and the remainder makes a pretty fair Portu- 
guese but as there was nobody else to gamble 
with, she entered freely into their society. Yery 
soon she suspected that there was foul play : all 
modes of doctoring dice had been made familiar 
to her by the experience of camps. She watched ; 
and, by the time she had lost her final coin,- she 
was satisfied that she had been plundered. In her 
first anger she would have been glad to switch 
the whole dozen across the eyes ; but, as twelve to 
one were too great odds, she determined on limit- 
ing her vengeance to the immediate culprit. Him 
she followed into the street ; and, coming near 
enough to distinguish his profile reflected on a 
wall, she continued to keep him in view from a 
short distance. The light-hearted young cavalier 
whistled, as he went, an old Portuguese ballad of 
romance, and in a quarter of an hour came up to 
a house, the front door of which he began to open 
with a pass key. This operation was the signal 
for Catalina that the hour of vengeance had 
struck ; and stepping hastily up, she tapped the 


THE SPANmil NUN, 87 

Portuguese on the shoulder, saying, “ Senor, you 
are a robber!” The Portuguese turned cooly 
round, and, seeing his gaming antagonist, replied, 
‘‘Possibly, sir ; but I have no particular fancy for 
being told so,” at the same time drawing his 
sword. Catalina had not designed to take advan- 
tage ; and the touching him on the shoulder, with 
the interchange of speeches, and the known char- 
acter of Kate, suthciently imply it. But it is too 
probable in such cases that the party whose in- 
tention has been regularly settled from the first 
will- and must have an advantage unconsciously 
over a man so abruptly thrown on his defence. 
However this may be they had not fought a min- 
ute before Catalina passed her sword through her 
opponent’ s body ; and without a groan or a sigh 
the Portuguese cavalier fell dead at his own door. 
Kate searched the street with her ears and (as 
far as the indistinctness of night allowed) with 
her eyes. All was profoundly silent ; and she 
was satisfied that no human figure was in motion. 
What should be done with the body \ A glance 
at the door of the house settled that. Fernando 
had himself opened it at the very moment when 
he received the summons to turn round. She 
dragged the corpse in, therefore, to the foot of 
the staircase, put the key by the dead man’s 


8 & THE SPANISH NUN. 

side, and then, issuing softly into the street, 
drew the door close with as little noise as pos- 
sible. Catalina again paused to listen and to 
watch, went home to the hospitable senora’s 
house, retired to bed, fell asleep, and early the 
next morning was awakened by the corregidor 
and four alguazils. 

The lawlessness of all that followed strikingly 
exposes the frightful state of criminal justice at 
that time wherever Spanish law prevailed. No 
evidence appeared to connect Catalina in any way 
with the death of Fernando Acosta. The Portu- 
guese gamblers, besides that, perhaps, they 
thought lightly of such an accident, might have 
reasons of there own for drawing off public atten- 
tion from their pursuits in Tucuman. Not one 
of these men came forward openly ; else the cir- 
cumstances at the gaming table, and the depar- 
ture of Catalina so closely on the heels of her 
opponent, would have suggested reasonable 
grounds for detaining her until some further 
light should be obtained. As it was, her im- 
prisonment rested upon no colorable ground 
whatever, unless the magistrate had received 
some anonymous information, which, however, 
he never alleged. One comfort there was, mean- 
time, in Spanish injustice — it did not loiter. Full 


THE SPANISH NUN 


89 


gallop it went over the ground. One week often 
sufficed for informations, for trial, for execution : 
and the only bad consequence was, that a second 
or a third week sometimes exposed the disagree- 
able fact that everything had been ‘‘premature 
a solemn sacrifice had been made to offended jus- 
tice, in which all was right except as to the vic- 
tim. It was the wrong man ; and that gave extra 
trouble, for then all was to do over again, another 
man to be executed, and, possibly, still to be 
caught. 

Justice moved at her usual Spanish rate in the 
present case. Kate was obliged to rise instantly ; 
not suffered to speak to anybody in the house ; 
though, in going out, a door opened, and she saw 
the young Juana looking out with saddest Indian 
expression. In one day the trial was all finished. 
Catalina said (which was tru^) that she hardly 
knew Acosta, and that people of her rank were 
used to attack their enemies face to face, not by 
murderous surprises. The magistrates were im- 
pressed with Catalina’s answers (yet answered to 
what?) Things were beginning to look well, 
when all was suddenly upset by two witnesses, 
whom the reader (who is a sort of accomplice 
after the fact, having been privately let into the 
truths of the case and having concealed his knowl- 


00 


THE SPANISH NUN 


edge) will know at once to be false witnesses, 
bnt whom the old Spanish bnzwigs doted on as 
models of all that conld be looked for in the best. 
Both were very ill-looking fellows, as it was 
their duty to be. And the first deposed as fol- 
lows : ‘‘That, through Ms quarter of Tucuman, 
the fact was notorious of Acosta’s wife being 
the object of a criminal pursuit on the part 
of the alferez, (Catalina ; ) that doubtless the 
injured husband had surprised the prisoner, 
which of course had led to the murder, to the 
staircase, to the key — to everything, in short, 
that could be wished, — no — stop ! what am I say- 
ing ? — to everything that ought to be abomin- 
ated. 

Finally, — for he had now settled the main ques- 
tion, — that he had a friend who would take up 
the case where he himself, from shortsightedness, 
was obliged to lay it down.” This friend, the 
Pythias of this shortsighted Damon, started up 
in a frenzy of virtue at this summons, and, rush- 
ing to the front of the alguazils, said, “That, 
since his friend had proved sufiiciently the fact 
of the alferez having been lurking in the house 
and having murdered a man, all that rested upon 
Mm to show was, how that murderer got out of 
the house, which he could do satisfactorily ; for 


THE SPANISH NUN 


91 


there was a balcony running along the windows 
on the second floor, one of which windows he him- 
self, lurking in a corner of the street, saw the 
alferez throw up, and, from the said balcony, take 
a flying leap into the said street.” Evidence like 
this was conclusive ; no defence was listened to ; 
nor, indeed, had the prisoner any to produce. 
The alferez could deny neither the staircase nor 
the balcony ; the street is there to this day, like 
the bricks in Jack Cade’s chimney, testifying all 
that may be required ; and as to our friend who 
saw the leap, there he was ; nobody could deny 
Jiim. The prisoner might indeed have suggested 
that she never heard of Acosta’s wife, nor had 
the existence of such a wife been ripened even in- 
to a suspicion. But the bench were satisfled ; 
chopping logic was of no use ; and sentence was 
pronounced — that, on the eighth day from the 
day of arrest, the alferez should be executed in 
the public square. 

It was not amongst the weaknesses of Catalina, 
who had so often inflicted death, and, by her own 
journal, thought so lightly of inflicting it, (if not 
under cowardly advantages,) to shrink from facing 
death in her own person. Many incidents in her 
career show the coolness and even gayety with 
which, in any case where death was apparently 


92 


TEE BP ANISE NUN 


inevitable, she would have gone to meet it. But 
in this case she had a temptation for escaping it, 
which was probably in her power. She had only 
to reveal the secret of her sex, and the ridiculous 
witnessess, beyond whose testimony there was 
nothing at all against her, must at once be covered 
with derision. Catalina had some liking for fun; 
and a main inducement to this course was, that it 
would enable her to say to the, judges, ‘‘ Now you 
see what old fools you’ve made of yourselves ; 
every woman and child in Peru will soon be 
laughing at you.” I must acknowledge my own 
weakness ; this last temptation I could not have 
withstood ; flesh is weak, and fun is strong. But 
Catalina did. On consideration, she fancied that, 
although the particular motive for murdering 
Acosta would be dismissed with laughter, still 
this might not clear her of the murder, which on 
some other motive she might have committed. 
But, supposing that she were cleared altogether, 
what most of all she feared was, that the publi- 
cation of her sex would throw a reflex light upon 
many past transactions in her life, would instant- 
ly find its way to Spain, and would probably soon 
bring her within the tender attentions of the 
Inquisition. She kept firm to the resolution of 
not saving her life by this discovery, and, so far 


THE 8P AN 1811 JNm, 


as her fate lay in her own hands, she would (as 
the reader will perceive from a little incident at 
the scajSold) have perished to a certainty. But, 
even at this point, how strange a case ! A woman 
falsely accused of an act which she really did 
commit, and falsely accused of a true offense 
upon a motive that was impossible ! 

As the sun set upon the seventh day, when the 
hours were numbered for the prisoner, there filed 
into her cell four persons in religious habits. 
They came on the charitable mission of preparing 
the poor convict for death. Catalina, however, 
watching all things narrowly, remarked some 
thing earnest and significant in the eye of the 
leader, as of one who had some secret communi- 
cation to make. She contrived to clasp this man’s 
hands, as if in the energy of internal struggles ; 
and he contrived to slip into hers the very small- 
est of billets from poor Juana. It contained, for 
indeed it could contain, only these three words : 
“Do not confess. J.” This one caution, so sim- 
ple and so brief, was a talisman. It did not refer 
to any confession of the crime , — that would have 
been assuming what Juana was neither entitled 
nor disposed to assume, — but, in the technical 
sense of the church, to the act of devotional con- 
fession. Catalina found a single moment for a 


94 


TIW SPANISH NUN. 


glance at it — understood the whole — resolutely 
refused to confess, as a person unsettled in her 
religious opinions — that needed spiritual instruc- 
tions ; and the four monks withdrew to make 
their report. The principal judge, upon hearing of 
the prisoner’s impenitence, granted another day. 
At the end of that., no change having occurred 
either in the prisoner’s mind or in the circum- 
stances, he issued his warrant for the execution. 
Accordingly, as the sun went down, the sad pro- 
cession formed within the prison. Into the great 
square of Tucuman it moved, where the scaffold 
had been built and the whole city had assembled 
for the spectacle. Catalina steadily ascended the 
ladder of the scaffold, even then she resolved not 
to benefit by revealing her sex ; even then it was 
that she expressed her scorn for the lubberly ex- 
ecutioner’s mode of tying a knot ; did it herself 
in a ‘‘ship shape,” orthodox manner ; received in 
return the enthusiastic plaudits of the crowd, and 
so far ran the risk of precipitating her fate ; for 
the timid magistrates, fearing a rescue from the 
impetuous mob, angrily ordered the executioner 
to finish the scene. The clatter of a galloping 
horse, however, at this instant forced them to 
pause. The crowd opened a road for the agitated 
horseman, who was the bearer of an order from 


THE SPANISH NUN. 


95 


the president of La Plata to suspend the execu- 
tion until two jDrisoners could be examined. The 
whole was the work of the senora and her daugh- 
ter. The elder lady, having gathered informa- 
tions against the witnesses, had pursued them to 
La Plata. There, by her influence with the gov- 
ernor, they were arrested, recognized as old male- 
factors, and, in their terror, had partly confessed 
their perjury. Catalina was removed to La Plata; 
solemnly acquitted ; and, by advice of the presi- 
dent, for the present the connection with the 
senora’ s family was postponed indeflnitely. 

Now was the last adventure approaching that 
ever Catalina should see in the new world. Some 
flne sights may yet be seen in Europe, but noth- 
ing after this {which she has recorded) in Ameri- 
ca. Europe, if it had ever heard of her name, 
(which very shortly it shall.) kings, pope, cardi- 
nals, if they were but aware of her existence, 
(which in six months they shall be,) would thirst 
for an introduction to our Catalina. You hardly 
thought now, reader, that she was such a great per- 
son, or anybody’s pet but yours and mine. Bless 
you, sir, she would scorn to look at us. I tell you, 
royalties are languishing to see her, or soon will 
be. But how can this come to pass if she is to 
continue in her present obscurity ? Certainly it 


96 


THE SPANISH NUN 


cannot without some great peripetteia or vertigi- 
nous whirl of fortune ; which, therefore you shall 
now behold taking place in one turn of her next 
adven^re. That shall let in a light, that shall 
throw back a Claud Lorraine gleam over all the 
past, able to make kings, that would have cared 
not for her under Peruvian daylight, come to 
glorify her setting beams. 

The senora — and, observe, whatever kindness 
she does to Catalina speaks secretly from two 
hearts, her own and Juana’s— ‘had, by the advice 
of Mr. President Mendonia, given sufficient mon- 
ey for Catalina’s traveling expenses. So far well. 
But Mr. M. chose to add a little codicil to this be- 
quest of the senora’ s never suggested by her or 
by her daughter. “Pray,” said this inquisitive 
president, who surely might have found biisiness 
enough in La Plata, — “pray, Senor Pietro Diaz, 
did you overlive at Conception ? and were you ever 
acquainted with Senor Miguel de Eruaso \ 
That man, sir, was my friend.” What a juty 
that on this occasion Catalina could not venture 
to be candid ! What a capital speech it would 
have made to say, “ Friend were you ! I think 
you could hardly be that^ with seven hundred 
miles between you. But that man was my friend 
also ; and secondly, my brother. True it is I 


THE BV AN 1^11 NUN. 


97 


killed liim ; but if yoTi happen to know that this 
was by pure mistake in the dark, what an old 
rogue you must be to throw tJiat in my teetli, 
which is the affliction of my life I ” Again, how- 
ever, as so often in the same circumstances, Cata- 
lina thought that it would cause more ruin than it 
could heal to be candid ; and, indeed, if she were 
really P. Diaz^ Esq^ ^ how came she to be brother 
to the late Mr. Erauso? On consideration, a’so, 
if she could not tell all^ merely to have professed 
a fraternal connection which never was avowed 
by either whilst living together, would not have 
brightened the reputation of Catalina, which too 
surely required a scouring. Still, from my kind- 
ness for poor Kate, I feel uncharitably towards 
the president’for advising Senor Pietro ‘Oo travel 
for his health.” What had he to do with people’s 
health ? However, Mr. Peter, as he had pock- 
eted the senora’s money, thought it right to 
pocket also the advice tliat accompanied its pay- 
ment. That he might be in a condition to do so, 
he went off to buy a horse. He was in luck to- 
day ; for, beside money and advice, he obtained 
at a low rate, a horse both beautiful and service- 
able for a journey. To Paz it was, a city of pros- 
perous name, that the cornet first moved. But 
Paz did not fulfil the i^romise of its name ; for it 
4 


98 


THE sPANmi mm. 


laid the grounds of a feud that drove our Kate 
out of America. 

Her first adventure was a bagatelle, and fitter 
for a jest book than for a history ; yet it proved 
no jest either, since it led to the tragedy that 
followed. Riding into Paz, our gallant standard 
bearer and her bonny black horse drew all eyes, 
comme de raison^ upon their separate charms. 
This was inevitable amongst the idolent popula- 
tion of a Spanish town, and Kate was used to it ; 
but, having recently had a little too much of the 
public attention, she felt nervous on remarking 
two soldiers eying the handsome horse and the 
handsome rider with an attention that seemed too 
solemn for mere cesthpUcs. However, Kate was 
not the kind of i:>erson to let anything dwell on 
her spirits, especially if it took the shape of im- 
pudence; and, whistling gayly, she was riding 
forward, when who should cross her path but the 
alcalde ! Ah, alcalde, you see a person now that 
has a mission against you, though quite unknown 
to herself. He looked so sternly that Kate asked 
if his wwship had any commands. ‘‘These men,” 
said the alcalde, “these two soldiers say this 
horse is stolen.” To one who had so narrowly 
and so lately escuped the balcony witness and his 
friend, it was really no laughing matter to hear of 


THE EP ANISE NUN. 


99 


new affidavits in j)repa ration. Kate was nervous, 
but never disconcerted. In a moment she had 
twitched off a saddle cloth on which she sat, and 

* throwing it over the horse’s head, so as to cover 
np all between the ears and the mouth, she re- 
plied ' that she had bought and paid for the horse 
at La Plata. But now, your worship, if this 
horse has really been stolen from these men, they 
must know well of which eye it is blind; ior it can 
be only in the right eye or the left.” One of tlie 
soldiers cried out instantly that it was in the left 
left eye; but the other said, “Ko, no, you for- 
get ; it’s the right.” Kate maliciously called ;it- 
tention to this little schism. But the men said, 
‘Ah, that was nothing — they were hurried; but 
now, on recollecting themselves, ihey were agreed 
that it was the left eye.” Did they stand to 
that? “0, yes, positive they were; left eye — 
left.” 

’ Upon which our Kate, twitching off the horse 
cloth, said gayly to the magistrate, “Kow, sir 
please to observe that this horse has nothing the 
matter with either ej^e.” And in fact is was so. 
Then his worship ordered his alguazils to appre- 
hend the two witnesses, who posted off to 4)read 
and water, with other reversionary advantages. 


100 


THE 8P ANISE NEN 


whilst Kate rode in quest of the best dinner Paz 
could furnish. 

This alcalde’s aquainlance, however, was not 
destined to drop here. Something Jiad aj)peared 
mihe young, Caballero s bearing which made it 
painful to have addressed him with harshness 
or "for a moment to have entertained such a 
charge against such a person. He despa tched his 
cousin, therefore, Hon Antonio Calderon, to offer 
his apologies, and at the same time to request 
that the stranger, whose rank and quality he re- 
gretted not to have known, would do him die 
honor to come and dine with him. This explana- 
tion, and the fact that Hon Antonio had already 
jiroclaimed his owu i^osition as cousin to the 
magistrate and nephew to the Bishop of Cuzco, 
obliged Catalina to say after thanking the gentle- 
men for their obliging attentions, I myself 
hold the rank of alferez in the service of his 
Catholic majesty. I am a native of Biscay; and I 
am now repairing to Cuzco on private business.’^ 
“To Cuzco!’’ exclaimed Hon Antonio. “How 
very fortunate ! My cousin is a Basque like you ; 
and, like you, he starts for Cuzco to-morrow 
morning ; so that, if it is agreeable to you, Senor 
Alferez, we will travel together.” 

It was settled that they should. To travel 


THE SPANISH NUN 


101 


amongst ‘‘balcony witnesses” and anglers for 
“blind liorses,” not merely with a just man, but 
wutli tlie very abstract idea and riding allegory 
of justice, was too delightful to the storm- 
wearied cornet ; and he cheerfully accompanied 
Don Antonio to the house of the magistrate, 
called Don Pedro de Chavarria. Distinguished 
was his reception. The alcalde personally' re- 
newed his regrets for the ridiculous scene of the 
two scampish oculists, and presented him to his 
wife, a splendid Andalusian beauty, to whom he 
had been married about a year. 

This lady there is a reason for describing ; and 
the French reporter of Catalina’s memoirs dwells 
ux)on the theme. She united, he says, the sweet- 
ness of the German lady with the energy of the 
Arabian — a combination hard to judge of. As to 
her feet, he adds, I say nothing ; for she had 
scarcely any at all. ne parle point de ses 

pieds^ elle nien avail presque pas.^"* “Poor 
lady!” says a compassionate rustic: “no feet! 
What a shocking thing that so fine a woman 
should have been so sadly mutilated 1 ” O my 
dear rustic, you’re quite in the wrong box. The 
Frenchman means this as the very highest com- 
pliment. Beautiful, however, she must have 
been, and a Cinderella, I hope, not a Cinderellula, 


102 


THE SPANISH^ NUN. 


considering that she had the inimitable walk and 
step of the Andalusians, which, cannot be accom- 
plished without something of a proportionate 
basis to stand upon. 

Tlie reason which there is (as I have said) for 
describing this lady, arises out of her relation to 
the> tragic events which followed. She, by her 
criminal levity, was the cause of all ; and I must 
here warn- the moralizing blunderer of two errors 
that he is too likely to make : 1st. That he is in- 
vited to read some extract from a licentious 
amour as if for its own interest ; 2d. Or on ac- 
count of Donna Catalina’s memoirs, with a view 
to relieve their too martial character. I have 
the pleasure to assure him of his being so utterly 
in the darkness of error that any |)ossible change 
he can make in his opinions, right or left, must 
be for the better : he cannot stir but he will 
mend, which is a delightful thought for the moral 
and blundering mind. As to the first i:>oint, what 
little glimpse he obtains of a licentious amour is, 
as a court of justice will sometimes show him 
such a glimpse, simply to make intelligible the 
subsequent facts which dei^end upon it. Second- 
ly, as to the conceit, that Catalina wished to em- 
bellish her memoirs, understand that no such 
practice then existed, certainly not in Sjiauish 


THIS SPANISH NUN. 


103 


literature. Her memoirs are electrifying by their 
facts ; else, in the manner of telling these facts, 
they are systematically dry. 

Hon Antonia Calderon was a handsome, accom- 
plished cavalier ; and, in the course of dinner, 
Catalina was led to judge, from the behavior to 
each other of this gentleman and the lady, the 
alcalde’s beautiful wife, that they had an im- 
proper understanding. This also she inferred 
from the furtive language of their eyes. Ht.r 
wonder was that the alcalde should be so blind ; 
though upon that point she saw reason in a day 
or two to change her opinion. Some people see 
everything by affecting to see nothing. The 
whole affair, however, was nothing at all to Iter ; 
and she would have dismissed it from her 
thoughts altogether but for what happened on 
the journey. 

From the miserable roads, eight hours a day of 
traveling was found quite enough for man and 
beast, the product of which eight hours was from 
ten to twelve leagues. On the last day but one 
of the journey, the traveling party, which was 
precisely the original dinner party, reached a lit- 
tle town ten leagues short of Cuzco. The corre- 
gidor of this place was a friend of the alcalde ; 
and through Ms influence the party obtained bet- 


104 


THE SPANISH NUN. 


ter accommodations than those which they iiad 
usually had, in a hovel calling itself ^venta^ or in 
the sheltered corner of a barn. The alcalde was 
to sleep at the corregidor’s house ; the two young 
cavaliers, Calderon and our Kate, had sleeping 
rooms at the public locanda ; but for the lady 
was reserved a little pleasure house in an enclosed 
garden. This was a plaything of a house ; but 
the season being summer, and the house surround- 
ed with tropical flowers, the lady preferred it (in 
s^hte of its loneliness) to the damp mansion of the 
official grandee, who, in her humble opinion, was ' 
quite as fusty as his mansion, and his mansion 
not much less so than himself. 

After dining gayly together at the locanda^ and 
l^ossibly taking a ‘‘rise” out of his worship the 
corregidor, as a repeating echo of Don Quixote, 
(then growing popular in Spanish America,) the 
young man who was no young officer, and the 
young officer who was no young man, lounged 
down together to the little pavilion in the flower 
garden, with the purpose of paying their respects 
to the presiding belle. They were graciously re- 
ceived, and had the honor of meeting there his 
mustiness the alcalde and his fustiness the cor- 
regidor, whose conversation was surely improving, 
but not equally brilliant. How they got on under 


THE SrANlSlI NUK. 


i05 


the weight of two sncli TnnlTs has been a mystery 
for two centuries. But they did to a certainty ; 
for the party did not break np till eleven. Tea 
and turn out you could not call it ; for there was 
the turn out in rigor, but not the tea. One thing, 
however, Catalina by mere accident had an op- 
portunity of observing, and observed with pain. 
The two official gentlemen had gone down the 
steps into the garden. Catalina, having forgotten 
her hat, went back into the little vestibule to look 
for it. There stood the lady and Don Antonio, 
exchanging a fe^v final words (they were final) and 
a few final signs. Amongst the last Kate observed 
distinctly this, and distinctly she understood it. 
First drawing Calderon’s attention to the gesture, 
as one of significant pantomine, by raising her 
forefinger, the lady snuffed out one of the candles. 
The young man answered it by a look of intelli- 
gence, and all three passed down the steps togeth- 
The lady was disposed to take the cool air, and 
accompanied them to the garden gate ; but in 
passing down the walk, Catalina noticed a second 
ill-omened sign that all was not right. Two glar- 
ing eyes she distinguished amongst the shrubs for 
a moment, and a rustling immediately after. 
“ What’s that?” said the lady; and Don Antonio 


lOG 


THE SPANISH NUN 


answered carelessly, ‘'A bird flying out of the 
bushes.” 

Catalina, as usual, had read everything ; not a 
wrinkle or rustle was lost upon her; and, there- 
fore, when she reached the locanda, knowing to 
an iota all that was coming, she did not retire to 
bed^ but paced before the house. She had not 
long to wait ; in fifteen minutes the door opened 
softly, and out stepped Calderon. Kate walked 
forward and faced him immediately, telling him, 
laughingly, that it .was not good for his health to 
go abroad on this night. The young man showed 
some impatience ; upon which, very seriously, 
Kate acquainted him with her suspicions, and 
with the certainty that the alcalde was not so 
blind as he had seemed. Calderon thanked her 
for the information ; would be upon his guard ; 
but, to imevent further expostulation, he wheeled 
around instantly into the darkness. Catalina 
was too well convinced, however, of the mischief 
on foot to leave him thus. She followed rapidly, 
and passed silently into the garden almost at the 
same time with Calderon. Both took their sta- 
tions behind trees — Calderon watching nothing 
but the burning candles, Catalina watching cir- 
cumstances to direct her movements. The can- 
dles burned brightly in the little pavilion. Pres- 


THE EPANisU NUN. 107 

ently one was extinguished. Upon this Calderon 
pressed forward to the steps, hastily ascended 
them, and passed into the vestibule. Catalina 
followed on his traces. What succeeded was all 
one scene of continued, dreadful dumb show ; 
different - imssions of panic, or deadly struggle, 
or hellish malice absolutely suffocated all articu- 
late words. 

In a moment a gurgling sound was heard, as of 
a wild beast attempting vainly to yell over some 
creature that it was strangling. ISText came a 
tumbling out at the door of one black mass, 
which heaved and parted at intervals into two 
figures, which closed, which parted again, which 
at last fell down the steps together. Then ap- 
peared a ligure in white. It was the unhappy 
Andalusian ; and she, seeing the outline of Cata- 
lina’ s person, ran up to her, unable to utter one 
syllable. Pitying the agony of her horror, Cata- 
lina took her within her own cloak and carried 
her out at the garden gate. Calderon had by this 
time died; and the maniacal alcalde had risen up * 
to pursue his wife. But Kate, foreseeing wliat 
he would do, had stepped silently within the 
shadow of the garden wall. Looking down the 
road to the town, and seeing nobody moving, the 
maniac, for some purpose, -- went back to the 


108 


TllE SPANISU KUN. 


house. This moment Kate used to recover the 
locand.a with the lady still panting in horror. 
What was to be done % To think of concealment 
in this little place was out of the question. The 
alcalde was a man of local power ; and it was 
certain that he would kill his wife on the spot. 
Kate’s generosity would not allow her to have 
any collusion with this murderous purpose. At 
CuzcOy the principal convent was ruled by a near 
relative of the Andalusian ; and there she would 
find shelter. Kate, therefore, saddled her horse 
rapidly, placed the lady behind, amd rode off in 
the darkness. About five miles out of the town 
their road was crossed by a torrent, over which 
they could not hit the br'dge. “Forward!’’ 
cried the lady ; and Kate repeating the word to 
the horse, the docile creature leaped down into 
the water. They were all sinking at first ; bui, 
having its head free, the horse swam clear of all 
obstacles through the midnight darkness and 
scrambled out on the opposite bank. 

The two riders were dripping from the should- 
ers downward. But, seeing a light twinkling 
from a cottage window, Kate rode up — obtained 
a little refreshment, and the benefit of a fire from 
a poor laboring man. From this man she also 
bought a warm mantle for the lady, who, besides 


THE SPANISH NUN. 


109 


iier torrent bath, was di'essed in a light evening 
robe ; so that, but for the horseman’s cloak of Kate, 
she would have perished. But there was no time 
to lose. They had already lost two hours from the 
consequences of their cold bath. Cuzco was still 
eighteen miles distant; and the alcade’s shrewdness 
would at once divine this to be his wife’s mark. 
They remounted ; very soon the silent night ech- 
oed tlie hoofs of a pursuing rider : and now com- 
menced the most frantic race, in which each 
party rode as if the whole game of life was staked 
upon the issue. The pace was killing ; and Kate 
has delivered it as her opinion, in the memoirs 
that she wrote, that the alcalde was the better 
mounted. This may be doubted ; and certainly 
Kate had ridden too many years in the Sjianish 
cavalry to have any fear of his worship’s horse- 
manship ; but it was a prodigious disadvantage 
that her horse had to carry double ; while the 
horse ridden by her opponent was one of those 
belonging to the murdered Don Antonio, and 
known to Kate as a powerful animal. At length 
they had come within three miles of Cuzco. The 
road after this descended the whole way to the 
city, and in some places rapidly, so as to require 
a cool rider. Suddenly a deep trench appeared, 
traversing the whole extent of a broad heath. It 


no 


THE SPANTSn NUN. 


was useless to evade it. To have hesitated was to 
be lost. Kate saw the necessity of clearing it, 
but doubted much whether her poor exhausted 
horse, after twenty-one miles of work so severe, 
had strength for the effort. Kate’s maxim, how- 
ever, which never yet had failed, both figurative- 
ly for life and literally for the saddle, was, to ride 
at everything that showed a front of resistance. 
She did so now. Having come upon the trench 
rather too suddenly, she wheeled round for the 
advantage of coming upon it more determinately, 
rode resolutely at it, and gained the opposite 
bank. The hind feet of her horse were sinking 
back from the rottenness of the ground ; but the 
strong supporting bridle hand of Kate carried 
him forward ; and in ten minutes more they 
would be in Cuzco. This being seen by the vicious 
alcalde, who had built great hopes on the trench, 
he unslung his carabine, pulled up, and fired after 
the bonny black horse and its bonny fair riders. 
But this manoeuvre would have lost his worship 
any bet that he might have had depending on this 
admirable steeple chase. Had I been stakeholder, 
what a pleasure it would have been, in fifteen 
minutes from this very vicious shot, to pay into 
Kat(^’s hands every shilling of the deposits! I 
would have listened to no nonsense about referees 


THE SPANlSn NUN' 


111 


or protests. The bullets, says Kate, whistled 
round the poor clinging lady en croupe. Luckily 
none struck her ; but one wounded the horse ; 
and that settled the odds. Kate ik)w planted 
herself well in her stirrups to enter Cuzco, almost 
dangerously a winner ; for the horse was so mad- 
dened by the wound, and the road so steep, that 
he went like blazes ; and it really became difficult 
for Kate to guide him with any precision through 
narrow episcopal paths. 

Henceforward s the wounded liorse required 
Kate’s continued attention ; and yet, in the mere 
luxury of strife, it was impossible for Kate to 
avoid turning a little in her saddle to see the 
alcade’s performance on this tight rope of the 
trench. His worship’s horsemanship being per- 
haps rather rusty, and he not perfectly ac- 
quainted with his horse, it would have been agree- 
able to compromise the case by riding round or 
dismounting. But all that was impossible ; the 
job must be done ; and I am happy to report, for 
the reader’s satisfaction, the sequel, so far as 
Kate could attend the performance. Gathering 
himself up for mischief, the alcalde took a sweep, 
as if ploughing out the line of some vast encamp- 
ment or tracing the pomcerium for some future 
Rome ; then, like thunder and lightning, with 


112 


THE SPANISH NUN. 


'arms Hying aloft in the air, .down lie came ujion 
the trembling trench. But the horse refused the 
leap ; and, as the only compromise that Ms un- 
learned brain could suggest, he threw his worship 
right over his ears, lodging him safely in a sand 
heap that rose with clouds of dust and screams of 
birds into the morning air. Kate had now no 
time to send back her compliments in a musical 
halloo. The alcalde missed breaking his neck on 
this occasion very narrowly ; but his neck was of 
no use to him in twenty minutes more as the read- 
er will soon lind. Kate rode right onwards ; and, 
coming in with a lady behind her, horse bloody, 
and pace such as no hounds could have lived with, 
she ought to have made a great sensation in Cuzco. 
But, unhappily, the people were all in bed. 

The steeple chase into Cuzco had been a 'fine 
headlong thing, considering the torrent, the 
trench, the wounded horse, the lovely lady, with 
her agonizing fears, mounted behind Kate, to- 
gether with the meek, dovelike dawn ; but the 
finale crowded together the quickest succession of 
changes that out of a melodrama can ever have 
been witnessed. Kate reached the convent in 
safety ; carried into the cloisters, and delivered 
like a parcel, the fair Andalusian. But to rouse 
the servants caused delay ; and, on returning to 


THE SPAyiSn YUK 


113 


the street through the broad gateway of the 
convent, whom should she face but the alcalde! 
How he escaped the trench, who can tell? He 
had no time to write memoirs ; his horse was too 
illiterate ; but he had escaped, temper not at all 
improved by that adventure, and now raised to a 
hell of malignity by seeing that he had lost his 
prey. In the morning light he now saw how to 
use his sword. He attacked Kate with fury. 
Both were exhausted ; and Kate, besides that she 
had no personal quarrel with the alcalde, having 
now accomplished her sole object in saving tlm 
lady, would have been glad of a truce. She could 
with difficulty wield her sword ; and the alcalde 
had so far the advantage that he wounded Kate 
severely. That roused her ancient blood. She 
turned on him now with determination. At that 
moment in rode two servants of the alcalde, who 
took part with their master. These odds strength- 
ened Kate’s resolution, but weakened her chances. 
Just then, however, rode in, and ranged himself 
on Kate’s side, the servant of the murdered Don 
Calderon. In an instant Kate had pushed her 
sword through the alcalde, who died upon the 
spot ; in an instant the servant of Calderon had 
fled ; in an instant the alguazils had come up. 

They and the servants of the alcalde pressed 


114 


TUB SPANISH NUN 


furiously on Kate, wlio now again was fighting 
for life. Against such odds she was rapidly 
losing ground ; when in an instant, on the opx^o- 
site side of the- street, the great gates of the 
episcopal palace rolled open. Thither it was that 
Calderon’s servant had fled. The bishop and his 
attendants hurried across. “ Senor Caballador,” 
said the bishop, in the name of the Virgin, I 
enjoin you to surrender your sword.” “ My 
lord,” said Kate, “ I dare not do it with so many 
enemies about me.” ‘‘But I,” replied the 
bishop, “become ansWerable to the law for your 
safekeeping.” Uxjon which, with filial reverence, 
all parties dropped their swords. Kate being 
severely wounded, the bishop led her into his 
palace. In an instant came the catastrophe. 
Kate’s discovery could no longer be delayed ; the 
blood flowed too rapidly ; the wound was in her 
bosom. She requested a private interview with 
the bishop. All was known in a moment; for 
surgeons and attendants were summoned hastily, 
and Kate had fainted. The good bishop pitied 
her and had her attended in his palace ; then re- 
moved to a convent; then to a second at Lima ; 
and, after many months had passed, his report 
to the Spanish government at home of all the par- 
ticulars drew from the King of Spain and from the 


THE SPAN 1811 NUN. 


115 


pope an order that the nun should be transferred 
to Spain. 

Yes, at length the warrior lady, the blooming 
cornet, this nun that is so martial, this dragoon 
that is so lovely, must visit again the home of 
her childhood, which now for seventeen years 
slie has not seen. All Spain, Portugal, Italy, 
rang with her adventurers. Spain from north to 
south, was frantic with desire to behold her fiery 
child, whose girlish romance, whose patriotic 
heroism, electrified the national imagination. 

he King of Spain must kiss his faithful daugh- 
ter, that would not suffer his banner to see dis- 
honor. The pope must kiss his wandering 
daughter, that henceforwards will be a lamb 
traveling back into the Christian fold. Poten- 
tates so great as these, when they speak words of 
love, do not speak in vain. All was forgiven — 
the sacrilege, the bloodshed, the flight, and the 
scorn of St. Peter’s keys. The pardons were 
made out, were signed, were sealed ; and the 
chanceries of earth were satisfied. 

Ah, what a day of sorrow and of joy was that 
one day, in the first week of November, 1624, 
when the returning Kate drew near to the shores 
of Andalusia; when, descending into the ship’s 
barge she was rowed to the piers of Cadiz by 


116 


Tin: SPANISH 2{UN. 


bargemen in the royal liveries ; w'lien she saw 
every ship, street, house, convent, church, 
crowded, like a day of judgment, with human 
faces, — with men, with women, with children, — 
all bending the lights of their flashing and their 
loving eyes upon herself ! Forty myriads of 
people had gathered in Cadiz alone. All Anda- 
lusia had turned out to receive her. Ah, wliat 
joy, if she had not looked back to the Andes, to 
their dreadful summits, and their more dreadful 
feet ! Ah, what sorrow, if she had not been 
forced, by music, and endless banners, and 
triumphant clamors, to turn away from the 
Andes to the joyous shore which she approached ! 

Upon this shore stood, ready to receive her, in 
front of all this mighty crowd, the prime minister 
of Sj)ain, the same Conde Olivarez who but one 
year before had been so haughty and defying to 
our haughty and defying Duke of Buckingham. 

But a year ago the Prince of Wales was in 
S^iain ; and he also was welcomed with triumph 
and gieat joy, but not with the hundredth part 
of that enthusiasm which now met the returning 
nun , and Olivarez, that had spoken so roughly 
to the English duke, to her ‘‘was sweet as sum- 
mer.’' Through endless crowds of festive com- 
patriots he conducted her to the king. The king 


THE SPANISH NUN. 


117 


folded her in his arms, and could never be satis- 
hed with listening to her. He sent for her con- 
tinually to his presence ; he delighted in her 
conversation, so new, so natural, so spirited ; 
he settled a pension upon her at that time, of un- 
precedented amount in the case of a subaltern 
officer ; and by his desire, because the year 1625 
was a year of jubilee, she departed in a few 
months from Madrid to Home. She went through 
Barcelona, there and every where welcomed as the 
lady whom the king delighted to honor She 
traveled to Home ; and all doors flevv open to re- 
ceive her. She was presented to his holiness, 
with letters from his most Catholic majesty. But 
letters there needed none. The pope admired her 
as much as all before had done. He caused her 
to recite all her adventures ; and what he loved 
most in her account was the sincere and sorrowing 
spirit in which she described herself as neither 
better nor worse than she had been. Neither 
proud was Kate, nor sycophantishly and falsely 
humble. Urban YIIL it was that then hlled the 
chair of St. Peter. He did not neglect to raise 
his daughter’s thoughts from earthly things ; he 
pointed her eyes to the clouds that were above 
the dome of St. Peter’s Cathedral; he told her, 
what the cathedral had told her in the gorgeous 


118 


THE SPANISH NUN 


clouds of the Andes and the vesper lights, how 
sweet a thing, how divine a thing, it was, for 
Christ’s sake, to forgive all injuries, and how he 
trusted that no more she would think of blood- 
shed. He also said two words to her in Latin, 
which, if I had time to repeat a Spanish bishop’s 
remark to Kate some time afterwards upon these 
two mysterious words, with Kate’s most natural 
and ingenuous answer to the bishop upon what 
she supposed to be their meaning, would make 
the reader smile not less than they made myself. 
You know that Kate did understand a little Latin, 
which probably had not been much improved by 
riding in the Light Dragoons. I must find time, 
however, whether the press and the compositors 
are in a fury or not, to mention that the pope, in 
his farewell audience to his dear daughter, whom 
he was to see no more, gave her a general license 
to wear henceforth in all countries, even in part- 
ibus infldelium^ a cavalry officer’s dress — boots, 
spurs, sabre, and sabre tache ; in fact, any thing 
that she and the Horse Gruards might agree upon. 
Consequently, reader, remember for your life 
never to say one word, nor suffer any tailor to say 
one word, against those Wellington trousers made 
in the chestnut forest ; for, understand that the 
Papal indulgence, as to this point, runs back- 


THE SPANISU NUN. 


119 


wards as well as forwards ; it is equally shocking 
and heretical to murmur against trousers in the 
forgotten rear or against trousers yet to come. ' 

From B-ome, Kate returned to Spain. She even 
went to St. Sebastian’s, to the city, but — whether 
it was that her heart failed her or not — never to 
the convent. She roamed up and down ; every 
where she was welcome, every where an honored 
guest, but every where restless. The poor and 
humble never ceased from their admiration of 
her ; and amongst the rich and aristocratic of 
Spain, with the king at their head, Kate found 
especial love from two classes of men. The card- 
inals and bishoiis all doted upon her, as their 
daughter that was returning. The military men 
all doted upon her, as their sister that was re- 
tiring. 

Some time or other, when I am allowed more 
elbow room, I will tell you why it is that I my- 
self love this Kate. Kow, at this 'moment, when 
i t is necessary for me to close, if I allow you one 
question before laying down my pen, — if I say 
“Come, now, be quick ; ask anything you Jiam 
to ask ; for in one minute I am going to write 
Finis., after which (unless the queen wished it) I 
could not add^a syllable,” — twenty to one, I guess 


120 


THE SPANISH NUN, 


what your-qnestion will be. You will ask me, 
What became of Kate ? What was her end ? 

Ah, reader ! but, if I answer that question, you 
will say I have not answered it. If I tell you 
that secret, you will say that the secret is still 
hidden. Yet, because I have promised, and be- 
cause you will be angry if I do not, let mo do my 
best ; and bad is the best. After ten years of 
restlessness in Spain, with thoughts always turn- 
ing back to the Andes, Kate heard of an expedi- 
tion on the point of sailing to Spanish America. 
All soldiers knew lier^ so that she had informa- 
tion of every thing that stirred in camps. Men of 
the highest military rank were going out with the 
expedition ; but they all loved Kate as a sister, 
and were delighted to hear that she w^ould join 
their mess on board ship. This ship, with others, 
sailed, whither linally bound I really forget; 
but, on reaching America, all the expedition 
touched at Vera Cruz. Thither a great crowd 
of the military went on shore ; the leading 
officers made a separate party for the same pur- 
pose. Their intention was to have a gay, happy 
dinner, after their long confinement to a ship, 
at the chief hotel; and happy in perfection 
it could not be unless Kate would consent to join 
if. She, that was ever kind to brother soldiers. 


THE SPAHISH NUN. 


121 


agreed to do so. She descended into the boat 
along with them, and in twenty minutes the boat 
touched the shore. All the bevy of gay, laugh- 
ing officers, junior and senior, like schoolboys es- 
caping from school, jumped on shore, and walked 
hastily, as their time was limited, up to the hotel. 
Arriving there, all turned round in eagerness, 
saying, ‘‘Where is our dear Kate?” Ah, yes, 
my dear Kate, at that solemn moment, where, in- 
deed, w^ere you f She had certainly taken her 
r-<ixt in the boat — that was sure. Nobody, in the 
.. neral confusion, was certain of having seen her 
i coming ashore. The sea was searched for her — 
e forests were ransacked. The sea made no an- 
• /er — the forests gave no sign. I have a conjec- 
' re of my own ; but her brother soldiers were lost 
in sorrow and confusion, and could never arrive 
even at a conjecture. 

That happened two hundred and fourteen years 
ago. Here is the brief sum of all : This nun sailed 
from Spain to Peru ; and she found no rest for 
the sole of her foot. This nun sailed back from 
Peru to Spain ; and she found no rest for the agi- 
tations of her heart. This nun sailed again from 
Spain to America ; and she found — the rest which 
all of us find. But where it was could never be made 
known to the father of S2)anish camps that sat in 


122 


THE SPANISH NUN 


Madrid, nor to Kate’s spiritual father that sat in 
Koine. Known it is to the great Father that once 
whispered to Kate on the Andes ; but else it has 
been a secret for two centuries ; and to man it re- 
mains a secret forever and ever. 


, BEST EDITlOlSrS 

OP 

STANDARD FICTION. 


ELIOTS (GEORGE) COMPLETE MrORKS. 

Lovell's Popular Edition. Printed from large clear type, new elec- 
Retype plates, uniform in style with Lovell’s editions of Dickens, 

The only complete edition published in this 


Tliaekeray and Scott 
country, 

A Middlemarch. 
ij. Daniel Deronda. 

Hi. Romola. 

IV. Adam Bede. 

V. Felix Holt. 

VI. The Mill on the Floss 


VII. Scenes from Clerical Life, and 
Silas Marner. 

VIII. Theopln-astus Such — The Span- 
ish Gypsy, Jubal, and other 
Poems. 


8 vol. 12mo. Cloth, black and gold $1300 

Half calf 34 00 


■ £OKENS^ WORKS. diaries Dickens’ Complete 

Works. Lovell's Popular Illustrated Edition. Printed from entirely 
new electrotype plates, large, clear type, with over 150 illustrations by 


pliiz, Barnard, Green, etc., etc. 

15 vols. 12mo. Cloth, gilt 22 50 

" “■ Cloth, gilt top /25 0» 

Half Russia 32 

i^alfcalf 45 

. ny volume sold separately, in cloth 1 


SCOTT {SIR WALTER). THE WA VERLEY 

■ NOVELS. Lovell's Pojjular Illustrated Editions. New electrotype 
plates, large clear type, uniform with Lovell’s editions of Dickens and 
Thackeray, making these the best and cheapest editions published. 

Library Edition. Printed on fine paper, fully illustrated, and beau- 
tifully bound, making this the best edition published. 24 vols. Cloth, 
gilt ^ .* 30 


Tlie Same. Popular Edition. Two vols. in one. 


12 vols. Cloth, gilt 18 

Half calf 36 


THACKERAY. William Makepeace Thackeray^s 

Complete Works. Lovell's Popular Illustrated Edition. This is an 
entii’ely new edition of Mr. Thackeray’s widtings. It is beautifully 
printed from new electrotype plates, large clear type, on fine paper, 
handsomely illustrated with over 200 full-page illustrations by the 
author. Richard Doyle, and F. Walker, and bound in cloth, gilt. It is 
the only large-ty[je edition planted in this country, and is the best, 
cheapest, and handsomest edition published. 


11 vols. 12mo. About 800 pages each. Cloth 16 

“ “ Half calf 33 

Any volume will be sold separately, bound in cloth, price 1 


JOHN W. LOVELL COIvIPANY, 

PuBLisiiBRS, 14 & 16 Yesey St., New York. 


S3S ’ § 88 88S 


A D VEIl TE^EyrEETS. 


BEST ED IT 1 5 N S 

■ OP 

STANDARD HISTORIES. 


K XI OUT. POPULAR HI STORY OF ENG- 

' LAND, from the landing of Julius Caesar to the death of Prince 
Albert By Charles Kuigiit. Library Edition. 8 vols. h^mo. IGO illus^ 
trations. Cloth, gilt top iS: i iV? 

The Same. Lovell's Standard Library. 4 vols. 12mo. 3'2 l ■ • 

tions. Cloth, gilt . ."J 

McCA R THY. HISTOR Y OF OUR 0 WN TIM V 

By Justin i-IcCarthy. Printed from new plates, large clear tj’pe. 2 ' o, •; 

12mo. Cloth, gilt ^ 

GREEN’S HISTORY OP THE ENGLISH P 

PLE. History of the English People. By J. R.- Green. Printed 

new plates, large clear type, with colored maps. 4 vols. 12mo. C u , . 

gilt, in box G 00 


FLUTARCIFS LIVES OF ILLUSTRIOUS 

MEN, with a Life of Plutarch. Translated from the Greek by John 
Dryden and others. The whole carefully revised and coi-rected. Popular 


Edition. 3 vols. 12mo, GOO pp. Ciotli, gilt, inbox 4 GO 

Half calf 9 00 

TAINE. HISTORY OP ENGLISH LITERA- 

TURE. By H. A. Taine, D.C.L. Translated from th > French by IT. 

Van Laun, one of the Masters of the Edinburgh Academy. 1 vol. 
12mo, 730 pages, beautifully printed, bound in cloth', gilt 1 25 


ROLLIN. ANCIENT HISTORY. The Ancient 

History of the Egyptians, Carthaginians, Assyrians. Babylonians. 
Medes and Persians, Grecians, Macedonians. By Charles Rollin. Pop'i- 
lar Edition. 4 vols. 12mo, 789 pages each, neatly bound in cloth, gilt. . (' 00 
Half calf 1 2 00 

SCHMITZ^ ANCIENT HISTORY. A Manual (»f 

Ancient History. By Dr. Leonhard Schmitz, Ph D., LL.D. Cloth, gilt. 1 


MA CA ULA Y. HISTOR Y OF ENG LA ND. from 

the Accession of .Tames the Second. By Thomas Babington Macaiday. 

This is a new edition of this well-known standard work, printed from 
new electrotype plates, in the popular 12mo form, and is withoiit , 
doubt the best of the cheaper editions of the work published. 5 vols. 
12mo, 600 pp. each. Cloth, In box 3 75 

CRITICAL AND MISCELLANEOUS ES- 

SAYS AND POEMS. Fine large type, new stereotype plates, printed 
on good paper, neatly bound. 3 vols. 12mo, 820 pp. each 4 1 3.75 

LIFE AND LETTERS OF LORD MA CA ULA Y. 

By his nephew, George Otto Trevelyan, M.P. Two volumes in one, 

1vol. 12mo. Cloth, gilt 1 23 


JOHN W. LOVELL COMPANY, 

PIJB25ISHERS, 14 & 16 Yesey St., Neav Yohk, 


LOVELL’S. LIBRARY. 


Under the 'TiIIq Lovell’s Library / a Weekly Ptiblicaf ion ^ 
the undersigned have commenced the publication of all the best 
works in Current and Standard Literature. 

The Contents of each number will be taken more especially from 
-the vast field of Fiction, including, besides all the Standard works, 
the best current Literature of the day; the leading works in History, 
Biography, Travels and Belles Lettres will also be included. Sub- 
scribers can in this way obtain a most complete Library at an 
almost nominal cost. 

While the price will be the same as other cheap series, namely 
TO cents for single numbers and 20 cents for double numbers, with 
an occasional issue at 15 cents, it is believed that this issue will be 
found superior to anything heretofore attempted, especially in the 
following points : 

First . — The type will be larger and the print consequently 
I clearer. 

' Second . — The size being the popular i2mo will be found much 

; more pleasant and convenient to handle. 

I Third . — Each number will have a handsome paper cover ; and 

I this, in connection with the size, will make it worthy of preservation. 

i NUMBERS NOW READY: 


I T. Hyperion, by Longfellow, , . .20 

2. Outre-Mer, by Longfellow, . . .20 

3. The Happy Boy, by Bjornson, . .10 

4. Arne, by Bjornson, . . . .10 

5. Frankenstein, by Mrs. Shelley, . .10 

1 6 . 'J'he Last of the Mohicans, . . .20 

7. Clyde, by Joseph Hatfon, . . .20 

8. The Moonstone, by Wilkie Collins, 

Part I, 10 

9. Do. Part II, 10 

. TO. Oliver Twist, by DicPens, . . .20 

■ 1 1. The Coming Race ; or tlie New 

Utopia, by Lord Lytton, . . .10 


12. Leila; or the Siege of Granada, 

by Lord Lytton, . . . .10 

13. The Three Spaniards, by George 

Walker, 20 

14. The Tricks of the Greeks Unveil- 

ed, by Robert Houdin,- . . .20 

15. L’Abbe Constantin, by Ludovic 

Halevy, Author of “ La Fide 
de Mme. Angot,” etc., . . .20 

16. Freckles, by Rebecca Fergus Red 

A new original story, . .20 

17. The Dark Colleen, by Mrs. Rob- 

bert Buchanan, . . . .2c 


TO BE FOLLOWED BY 


The Spanish Nun, by Thos. De 
Quincey. . . . . . .10 

A Tale of Twq Cities, by Chas. 

Dickens, 20 

Roinola, by George Eliot. . . . .20 

1 Fleurette, by Eugene Scribe, Part I, .15 
~ “ Part II, ,15 

East Lynne, by Mrs. Henry Wood, 

Part 1 15 

Do. Part II. . , . . . .15 

Hypatia, by Rev. Charles Kingsley. .20 


Jane Eyre, by Charlotte Bront^. 
Parti, ...... .15 

Do. Part II, IS 

Sad Fortunes of Rev. Amos Barton, 
by George I'dliot, . . . . .10 

Under Two Flags, by Ouida. Parti, .15 
“ “ “ *• “ Part II, .15 

Charles O’Malley, by Chas. I.ever. 

Part 1 20 

Do. Part II 20 

Vixen, by Miss M. E. Braddon, . .20 


!" The success that has attended the publication of the Library so 
I 'far, has encouraged the Publishers to announce two new series, 
I • Vhich, should sufficient encouragement be accorded them, will be 
1 issued fortnightly for the present, and oftener as the demand 
I warrants it. These will be entitled The Sunday Series” and the 
I “ The Centennial Series” and will be distinguished from the regulaif 
I issue by different colored cover*. 



SUNDAY 


SERIES 


Y'ill contain choice works by Standard English and European writers, 
and in addition to foreign selections will, from time to time, include 
sermons, essays and stories by prominent American preachers and 
Authors. 


A high standard of moral and literary excellence is set for this 
series, which, while containing only the best writings, books that will 
instruct, as well as fasten and hold the attention of readers, \ 
also contain only the writings of authors charitably broad and tin - 


oughly unsectarian. 

Among the first volumes in this 


Seekers after God, by Canon Farrar, 

D. 1 ) 20 

John Halifax. Gentleman, by Miss 
Mulock. Part T, . . ’ . . .15 

Do. Part 1 1 15 

The Hermits, by Rev. Chas. Kings- 
ley, 20 


Series, will be 

Robert Falconer, by Geo. Macdonald, 

T he Daisy Chain, by Charlotte M. 
Yonee. Part I, . . . • - S 

Do. Part 1 1 <; 

The Pupils of St. John the Divine, 
by C. M. Yonge, . . . . 


THE CENTENNIAL SERIEG. 


will present three attractive features. 

First . — Historical Monographs cf important and picturese : 
events in American History ; from the settlement of the Colonics '. j 
the coming and concluding celebration at Newburgh, in I083, w h 
^vhich this series will end. 

Second . — Short Biographies of the early Presidents, and o> 
Revolutionary Heroes and Leaders. 

'Ihird . — Choice specimens of early American Novels, partic 
larly those which illustrate the revolutionary period, the settlemc 
of the Colonies, and the rapid growth of the Country from Ocean to 
Ocean. In this revival will be introduced to American readers O' 


to-day some charming books which have been so long out of prim; 

the libraries of careful collectors. 


that they are only to be found in 
Among the first numbers in t 

The Green IMonntain Boys, by Judge 
D P. Thomp.son, . . . . .20 

The Spy. by J. Fenimore Cooper, . .20 

Hor-e Shoe Robinson, by John P. 
Kennedy. Part I, . . • -15 


s Scries will be 

Horse Shoe Robinson, by John P. 

Kennedy. Part H, . . .15 

Life of Washington. Written espe- 
cinlly for this series., , . . .15 

Life of Marion, 20 


In addition to the paper edition all the 20 cent numbers, am! 
many of the 10 cent numbers, two volumes in one, will be handsomely 
bound in cloth, gilt, price 50 cents a volume. 


JOHN W. LOVELL CO., Publishers, 

14 and 16 Vc'scf SJ.f New Yorks, 


IMW TO BEAUTIFY THE COMPLESOH. 


SBOaET or BSAWTY. 


r?ooia 



doliglitlu) toilet preparation, known ae the 


ALL Women know that it is beanty rather than genins 
which all g aerations liavo worshipped in the S"X. Can it }>e 
■wondered at, then, that so much of woman's time and atien- 
tlon shou! 1 be clirecied to the means of develo ing rnd pre- 
serving tlmt beauty? Womea know, too, tliar, when men 
speak orihe intellect of wom^ n, they speaker timilv, tamely. 
Coolly; but when they c' me to speak of the charms of a beau- 
tiiul woman, t;.eir language and their eyes kindle with an tn- 
lhu.«i;.s .i wliif h shows them to be proionndly, it not ridicu- 
lously in earn st. It is ajjart of the natural sagacity of women 
to perceive all this, and ilicrcrore employ every allowable art 
to b come the goddess of that adoration. Pieac’.i to the con- 
trary, s.s we inny, against ti'e aris employe I by women for 
enchanting th'.irb auty, there still stands ti o ef- rnul fact, that 
thewoilidocs not i refer tlie society of an ugly woman of 
genius to that of abeuuty of less intellectual acfiui ements. 
The world has yet al owed no legher mls.^itm to women tlian 
to be be, utiful, and it would seem i at tlie ladies of the present 
ago ar < c arrying this i- caof the world to grerter exiremes 
than t v r, lor Jdl worron now to whuii na'ure has denied the 
tai smanicp w’ r of bo.iuty. supp y the defifieney by the use 


JiAS SETTUEOTHATQUESTHJN 
WITH A LCVELY CUCCESS. 




BLOOM OF YOUTH. 


»> 



I‘ is a delicate 
leaving the com- 
the assistance of 


FEMALE BEAUTY 

8 destined to p’ay alargerp'^rtin the admiratmn of men and the ambition of women then 
lU aria employed since her creation. The most delightful and harmless Toilet preoaration 
las been estabU^hed over ten years < n m.g that time ovi a o e miuliom lauies have 
a edit, an lineveryin-tance fiven entire iaiisfaciion. Ladies need have no fear of 

loing this invaluable Toilctacquisitinn. 

Onec flheniost em!ucntp:ijbicia..s ofLcwdork city, says: After cat efully examin- 
ing tlie j.iialj sis prepared by the 

Cbemist of the Metropolitan Board of Ilealtla^-of tlie CJenaiiine 
EiASRD’S BLiOOM OF J pronounce tise preparation 

harmless, az^d Eliitirely Free from any Ingredient Injurious to 
esealcli or SHiIn, E^adies, Beware of Wortbiess Imitations of 
Geo, W. £.aird.’s Bloom of ITouili.” 

The unprecedented success of GEORGE W. LAIRD’S “RLOO^T OF TODTn” has In- 
duce I unprincipled persons to counterfeit and imitate the “Bloom <t ’ioutli. ’ Tiie 
[g nu neprepa ation has achieve I gr at popularity during the la-t ten years it ha i h;.en 
lln us ' Mr Laird being determined to rid the market of counterieits. an !■ in order to 
Ipr te'^’t the public f oin imposition, and U) prevent their purchasing w.-rthiess imitations 
o^’liisr liable and liarmless b auiificr of the skin, has ]> aced the lai.el of tliis preparation 
im ler the charge of th; United S aies Government, a' d ilvir engraver h is prepared a 
de'Ji'^n and engraved the same on steel plates, at a large expense. '1 he new label w 11 em- 
h ace the United Slates internal Revenue Stain -. Any person or persons couuierfc inig 
thisiabel will be liable toiiiip isoumeut bv the United States authorities. Bewar.iol worth- 
less ini-atioiis. that THE REVENUE STAMP is printed o . the front label, and 

the name G. tV. LAlllD is siamped in the glus-i C/U t ieba,ck of each bottle. NONh uiHLK 
GENUINE. This deiightlui preparation is 

Druggists and Pancy Goods Dealers, 

Depot c 83 JOHM STB.!EST, 'M'EiW YOI&!K# 


GRAN-D, SQUARE AND UPRIGffl 

PIANOS. ' I 



Superior to all others in Tone, Durability and W orkmandl ‘||||i 
have the endorsement of the leading Artists. First 
Merit and Diploma of Honor at Centennial Exhibition. 

Musical authorities and critics prefer the SOHMER PI 
and. they are purchased by those possessing refined musica 


Med*i;ii<i| 
"if 



and? appreciating the richest quality of tone and highest perf-i^;;ii^ 
generally in a Piano. :lj<| 


SOHMER & CO., 




MANUFACTUREKS OF 


Erand, Square and Upright Piand| 


m 




149 to 155 EAST 14th ST.. NEW YORK.. 


'!JK 

■fi'!* 


Ml 




I. 













